


tramps like us

by Kody (saturated)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Running Away, Underage Drinking, background benverly, background hanbrough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21762247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturated/pseuds/Kody
Summary: “We should just leave,” Richie said.  “Get the fuck out of here as soon as we can.”Eddie pondered that.  Leaving. It was something he thought of every day of his life.  Leaving Derry. Leaving his mom. Finding something better. With Richie.“Okay,” is all Eddie said.---Eddie and Richie leave Derry the day after graduation
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 26
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is completed! Don't worry about me not finishing it!
> 
> This fic is completely finished and there are 6 chapters. I will post chapters every 2-3 days or so, mostly because some chapters end with some suspense and I want to help build that.
> 
> This fic was inspired by many, _many_ things including my weird obsession with running away, some fanart I saw on Tumblr, and very heavily by "Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen (which is where the title comes from).
> 
> There are probably more things I could tag but for right now I want to update it chapter by chapter to avoid spoilers.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING for future chapters: suicide mention and drug addiction. I will update tags when we reach those chapters and I will warn again with each chapter what the TWs are.

_ Someday, girl, I don't know when _

_ We're gonna get to that place _

_ That we really wanna go and we'll walk in the sun _

_ But til then, tramps like us _

_ Baby, we were born to run.  _

"Born to Run" - Bruce Springsteen

* * *

Eddie was always a runner, but his mom never let him. He was too 'fragile', too 'delicate', but he did anyway without her knowing. He loved running. Loved the feeling of going fast and the freedom of it all. Loved the burn in his legs and knowing he was still able to breathe, a reminder of another way he wasn't as delicate as his mother led him to believe. Running was what he did. Running to wherever his mother was not. It shouldn't have surprised him that when Richie asked him to run away, he said yes.

Richie asked one night as they lay in Eddie’s bed, limbs tangled together, Eddie’s fingers running through Richie’s curls and Richie’s hands playing at the hem of Eddie’s shirt. Richie wasn’t supposed to be there, although even before that day he never was, but that day was different. That day, Richie had decided he was tired and done, and came out to his parents. They had reacted worse than expected. They expressed every bit of distaste they had for it, begging him to consider that maybe it’s just a phase he’ll grow out of, that he just hasn’t found the right girl yet, that maybe he’s even doing this for attention. But no. Richie got mad and like he always did when he got mad, he got loud and lost every filter he had. He said no, it’s not a phase and he’s in love and there’s nothing they could do to stop him from being in love. They asked who, and he told them. And then his mom called Sonia because “she had the right to know” and that was the end of it. Eddie was forbidden from seeing Richie and leaving the house except for school. Life as they knew it was over.

So, Richie came over as soon as his parents had gone to sleep, sneaking out his window and in through Eddie’s like they had already been doing for the past few years. 

Laying together, they didn’t say anything for quite some time. Eddie almost jumped when Richie started talking.

“We should just leave,” Richie said. “Get the fuck out of here as soon as we can.”

Eddie pondered that. Leaving. It was something he thought of every day of his life. Leaving Derry. Leaving his mom. Finding something better. With Richie. 

“Okay,” is all Eddie said.

“I mean it,” Richie said. “After graduation, I’m getting the fuck out.”

“I mean it, too,” Eddie said. “I’ll go with you.”

Richie froze, no doubt considering the implications of running away with his boyfriend at the age of 18. Eddie moved a hand to Richie’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over it. Richie closed his eyes.

“You can’t promise me things,” Richie said slowly, “that you won’t do, Eds. I don’t think I can take that right now.”

“I promise you I will,” Eddie said. “I can’t stay here anymore.” His voice cracked. “I can’t stay with  _ her _ anymore.”

Richie closed the distance between them and kissed Eddie softly. He couldn’t believe what he was promising. Running away. Running away with Richie to God knows where and he felt so good about it. There was nothing on Earth he wouldn’t do for Richie, but he also knew this wasn’t for Richie, it was for him.

Richie pulled away. “Where we going, Eds?”

“Can’t put that on me,” Eddie said. “You’re the one who wanted to run away.”

Richie smiled. “C’mon, dude,” he said. “I came up with the idea, you need to do the details.”

“How the hell–”

“California,” Richie said quickly. “I want to go to California.”

“How are we getting there,” Eddie said, smiling at Richie’s sudden excitement. “Your shitty truck?”

“Noted,” Richie said. A pause. “How about New York?”

“New York sounds…” Eddie trailed off. Like a dream. Like a world away and everything they ever wanted. There would be people there like them. People running away and looking for something they couldn’t put a name on. People looking for new place and a fresh start and a chance to be their true selves without anyone telling them they couldn’t be. But New York was big. Sure, there were people there chasing their dreams, but there were also countless people ready to tear them down. Not to mention it was expensive as all hell. But it wasn’t Derry. “Terrifying.”

“We got each other,” Richie said nonchalantly. “Right?”

Eddie nodded, suddenly unsure of what he was agreeing to. He had to think. Running away was the first thing. That was something he always dreamed of, leaving Derry and his mother and being free from all that shit somewhere else. He imagined it would happen in a way that felt less heartbreaking. He would go to college or get a job, not simply abandon everything he ever knew.

The next part of it was Richie. Running away was something he thought about but running away with Richie never seemed to cross his mind. There was an unspoken thing about it. Something that they both seemed to understand without having to talk about it. Commitment. Running away together meant they were committing to each other. They had been dating for years, but this was different. They wouldn’t have their houses to return to, or their separate lives to live. They would be each other’s lives from that point forward.

The last part of it was New York. New York City was the big, scary city that was filled with dirt and disease and existed only in Eddie’s mind as a scare tactic his mother used against him. He vaguely recalled his 16 th birthday when his mother wanted to take him on a weekend trip, and he wanted to go to New York City and she gave a resounding no. There was no fighting and no questioning. New York was dirty and filled with disease.  _ AIDS _ . There was no way they would ever go there. So, Eddie settled on a historic trip to Boston, and even though his mother thought that was no good either, it was nowhere near as bad as New York. New York was a distant place that was nothing more than a dream to Eddie.

“After graduation,” Richie said pulling Eddie back to the present. “The day after. That way we’ll have our diplomas and it will give a night to say goodbye.”

Eddie nodded again. Richie must have noticed the panic in his eyes because he pulled Eddie into his chest, holding him tight.

“We’ll be fine,” Richie said, although he sounded like he was assuring himself more than Eddie. “We’ll be okay.”

They didn’t tell anyone. They didn’t want anything to get their way of running. They didn’t want anything to ruining the freedom they felt once the initial panic resided. They didn’t want Bill’s constant questions or Stan’s lectures about planning for their future. They didn’t want Ben’s sympathetic stares or Mike’s encouraging words. And they sure as hell didn’t want Bev trying to tag along like they knew she would. This was theirs. 

Although it was hard sometimes. They had gotten better than they used to be at keeping secrets, but it would still be another couple months before they would head out. They planned to tell them the night before, all of them drunk and unable to fight back or convince them to stay. And they managed to wait, even with the whispering their friends often did when they began to suspect  _ something _ was going on.

They became reclusive, and secretive even over things that didn’t have any consequences. Eddie assumed it was because he was preparing for life without them, or maybe a natural reaction to keeping a secret this big from the only people who actually gave a shit about him. He began to hate himself for it, having panic attacks nearly every night, away from Richie who he wasn’t even trying to hide from. He became exhausted.

One quiet lunch, sometime in April, brought Eddie out of himself when, during a brief musing, Ben wondered where they all would be this time next year.

“It seems weird,” Ben said, “that soon we won’t have this.” Ben had gotten accepted into Stanford with a full ride, and Bev planned on moving out there with him. She wasn’t going to school and she didn’t have a plan, but it was exciting, she said, a new beginning.

“Don’t say that,” Stan said, who got into Cornell. “I don’t like thinking about leaving you guys.”

“We can still write,” Bill said, who, along with Mike, did not have much of a plan and had decided on taking a few classes at the local community college for a little while.

“And call every day,” Bev said.

“At least we have this summer,” Mike said.

Eddie felt gross, like he had been rolling around in the dirt and now no amount of showers would get him clean. They didn’t deserve the lies they were being fed, of potentially staying in Derry or maybe he would leave but who knows. He could feel Richie’s eyes on him as he slipped an arm around Eddie’s lower back.

“We’re leaving, me and Eddie,” Richie started, “right after graduation. For New York.”

Richie had let the secret go. He was the one who thought it would be better to be left without being said. And he was the one to tell everyone else. Eddie felt a pang of relief.

“Right after?” Stan asked.

“Not right after,” Richie said. “The next day, but yeah.”

“What are you doing in New York?” Ben said. “Do you have jobs?”

“Nope,” Richie said. “Gonna wing it.”

“Apartment?” Stan said. “Anything planned or any way to know what you’re doing?”

“Not a clue, baby,” Richie said without a care.

“Sounds romantic,” Bev said holding her face up with a hand. “Running away with the love of your life.”

“You would know,” Richie teased. “‘Oh, California this, and California that!’ You’re going to fucking Stanford, not L.A. you weirdo.”

Bev threw her crumpled napkin at Richie from across the table. “Shut the fuck up, Trashmouth.”

And things were fine for a little while. Stan was very obviously stressed about what they would do when they got there, but he kept his pressing to a minimum when he discovered how much it agitated Richie. And Bev wouldn’t shut up about how happy she was for the two of them to find a future with each other, no matter how much Richie tried to claim that she was doing the same exact thing.

Things collapsed the night of graduation, diplomas gotten and hats thrown, the losers sat in the makeshift lounge in the barn at Mike’s that they made out of old furniture piled in the back room. Mike’s grandpa let them use with the circumstances being that was where they drank or got high or whatever weird shit the kids were doing. That way he could keep an eye on them and they wouldn’t get into trouble. He knew what teenagers were like and didn’t need that on his head.

Richie and Bev disappeared outside to smoke, and Eddie was pleasantly drunk, tuning in and out of conversations. A chill ran through him and he hated Richie for taking his flannel back from Eddie who had stolen it. Finder’s keepers, Eddie had said, and Richie only laughed and said, you took it off my body, punctuated with a resounding fuck you. Eddie had a right mind to make Richie keep that promise later.

“Is that right, Eddie?” Bill said, bringing Eddie back to the conversation and away from thoughts of his boyfriend.

“Hm?” Eddie said, revealing his distraction.

“New York’s the most expensive place to live,” Stan said. “Even outside the city, apartments aren’t cheap.”

“I don’t…” Eddie tried to say. “I don’t know.”

Stan pressed his lips together, no doubt trying not to say anything, so Bill said it for him. “We’re w-w-worried about you guys.”

“It feels kind of stupid to run off to New York without a plan,” Mike said.

“Maybe,” Eddie said, sobering up. “I thought you guys we’re fine with it.”

“We were,” Stan said. “Mostly.”

“You guys were so happy,” Mike said. “We thought it was just a dream or something.”

“You’re p-p-packed,” Bill said, “leaving t-t-t-tomorrow.” He must have been worried. His stutter always got worse when he was nervous.

“We want to make sure you’re okay when you get there,” Stan said.

“We – we have money saved,” Eddie said hearing his voice crack. “We’ll – we will be fine…right?” He reached around himself to try and pull the missing flannel tight around him. He had grown so used to wearing Richie’s shirts that it felt wrong to not have one on to make him feel safe. He pulled his knees up to his chest and held them tight, begging this night to end, begging for sobriety, begging for the tears behind his eyes and the sobs in his chest to go away.

He should be happy, excited, that tomorrow night, once Derry had gone to sleep, he and Richie would be leaving. They would leave and never come back and it would be good. It was supposed to be good. So, why did Eddie feel like shit? Why did he feel like he was the worst person in the world? His friends knew he wasn’t leaving them, they would keep in contact, so what was it? His mom? He hated her and wanted to believe that would make it easier to leave. But there was another part of him, the part of himself he didn’t dare think about, that wanted to stay with her and keep being her perfect little boy. It was easy to say he hated her, but it was so hard to admit that some part of him still loved her.

He didn’t know if he could go through with it. He couldn’t. He started crying, ignoring the panic in his friends’ eyes when they realized they had pushed too far. Eddie realized he hadn’t cried in front of anyone besides Richie in years. He had gotten so good at faking it, at protecting his feelings, only for it to shatter his last night in Derry.

There was a warmth surrounding him and he realized that Richie had come back and put his flannel over Eddie like a blanket. He climbed over the back of the couch, settling in behind Eddie and wrapping him in his arms, pulling Eddie’s back to his chest.

“It’s alright, baby,” Richie said. “I’m here.”

“We can’t go to New York,” Eddie said. “We can’t”

Richie looked up and around at his friends, looking for some answer as to what launched Eddie into an anxiety-fueled mess.

“We were only asking questions,” Ben offered.

“We’re worried about you guys,” Stan said.

Richie nodded. And Eddie started to calm down now that Richie was here with him. Part of him hated that he relied on Richie like that, but another part felt good that he had someone to rely on. He decided he’d figure that out later, when he wasn’t so worried about New York.

In the end, they decided that it was only anxiety, a fear that something would happen and they wouldn’t be safe or as ready to face the world as they believed they were. But it would be fine. They had each other, and their friends were ready to help them if need be. Eddie pushed down what he was thinking about and agreed with all of that, knowing his problems were too big to deal with right now and they would be completely gone tomorrow night once he left. He hoped.

The two of them decided, too, to call it a night, and said their goodbyes with a few more tears shed. Ben and Bev promised to stop by on their way out to California in the fall, but that wouldn’t be for a few months, and who knew when the others would get a chance to visit, or even the other way around. It would be hard, but Eddie knew he could get through it.

“Sometimes I feel like it’s my fault,” Richie said pressed next to Bev as they sat outside the barn. Richie had already powered through two cigarettes while Bev was only halfway through her first. He decided not to think about it.

“It’s not,” Bev said. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you.”

“If I hadn’t told my parents–”

“You thought they’d react better,” Bev said. “It’s not your fault your parents suck.”

Richie thought on that. Part of the reason he started smoking with Bev was because she always made him feel sane. She validated his feelings but also metaphorically smacked him when he started throwing pity parties. She kept him in line.

“Look, Rich,” Bev said. “You can keep sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, or you can be Eddie’s rock and go live a fucking good life in New York.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Richie muttered.

“It’s not,” Bev said. “But I think you have to pretend like it is until it actually is easy.”

Richie didn’t want to. He didn’t want to pretend to do anything, and he wanted to just go to New York with Eddie and get the fuck out of Derry and never think about it again. It wouldn’t be easy, and he didn’t think it ever would be. He didn’t want to be Eddie’s rock. He wanted everything to be fine and Eddie’s anxiety not to exist and…and… If he was Eddie’s rock, then who was going to be his?

He turned his head away from Bev, tears welling, wanting to hide from everything. She took his hand.

“Just because Eddie’s mom is worse than my parents,” Richie started, “doesn’t mean mine don’t fucking suck. They think I’m going to get over it and don’t believe I’m in love with Eddie.” Bev squeezed Richie’s hand. “They keep pretending like they didn’t completely ruin mine and Eddie’s lives.”

“Richie…”

“I can’t fucking wait to get out of here,” Richie said turning back to Bev. “Then it’s just me and Eddie against the world.” He said the last part almost wistfully, like he didn’t fully believe it. But he wanted to. He wanted to believe it was as simple as once he left Derry, things would start being better. But that was a dream. New York was only one step in the road to being better. Maybe Bev was right, he’d have to pretend things were easy until they were.

“Let’s go back in,” Bev said standing, keeping hold of Richie’s hand. “Everyone’s probably wondering if we died out here.”

Bev led Richie back into the barn, where Eddie was panicking, and no one could figure out what to do, so Richie did what he always did, and wrapped Eddie up in his arms, and took him home where they could be away from everything.

Richie was defeated, by the time he and Eddie got to his house. It was his fault. Eddie was in the worst state he had been in since who the hell knows and it was all his fault. If he had only managed to keep his big mouth shut, not decided to spill his deepest secret, then maybe Eddie’s mom wouldn’t have found out. Maybe Eddie would be more ready and able to make a big move with Richie. Maybe if they didn’t have to sneak out in the middle of the night, and maybe if they could tell their parents where they were going. Maybe if he was more philosophical and knew what to say. He really wished he knew what to say.

In Richie’s bed, Eddie, who usually preferred being the big spoon, was tucked into Richie’s arms, not speaking. Richie tried to think. How could he make this better?

“How are you feeling?” Richie asked.

“Don’t know,” Eddie said. “Better, I guess, now that I’m not drunk anymore.”

“Will you still run away with me?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Richie responded by pushing his face into the back of Eddie’s neck and squeezing him tighter.

“You trying to kill me, Rich?” Eddie said, slightly strained.

“You wish,” Richie said and promptly licking the back of Eddie’s neck.

Eddie jumped. “That’s fucking gross,” Eddie said turning to face Richie. He was smiling. “Fuck you.”

Richie raised an eyebrow. “Promise?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And Eddie did, leaning forward and kissing Richie, moving his hands up to run his fingers through Richie’s hair, Richie moving his hands down to Eddie’s waist to pull him close. Closer and closer. Richie kept pulling until Eddie took the hint and pushed Richie down and climbed on top of him, not once breaking apart.

Eddie kissed deeper, sliding his tongue into Richie’s mouth and grinded his hips against Richie’s. Richie let out a moan that was a little too loud.

Eddie pulled back. “Not so loud. Your parents will hear.”

“Let them,” Richie said slipping his hand up Eddie’s shirt. 

Eddie thought for a second. “Let’s wait.”

“Not fair, Eds,” Richie pouted.

“It’ll be better when we’re gone.” Eddie leaned down and kissed Richie softly. “When we’re free of this fucking place.”

Richie looked at Eddie with every bit of fondness he could muster, which was a lot. “Whatever you say, baby.”

The next night, after everyone else had gone to bed, Richie pulled up to Eddie’s house, lights on his truck turned off. Before he could even put it in park, Eddie was coming out of the front door, suitcase in hand. He threw it in the back and hopped in the passenger seat.

“You going my way, baby?” Richie joked.

“Anywhere you’re heading, stud,” Eddie said grinning.

And they drove off. They both left notes for their parents, just enough for each to know they were okay, but to also say they wouldn’t be coming back.

Richie’s read:  _ I’m sorry but I have to go. It’s not a phase and I won’t grow out of it. I love Eddie and I’m going to be with him forever, not here. I still love you, but don’t try to find me. Richie _ .

Eddie’s read:  _ Don’t look for me. I’m running and you can’t stop me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before people start commenting, I do want to expose myself and say this fic became somewhat of a coping mechanism and way of exploring my own problems. I've been obsessed with the idea of running away and starting over for a really long time, and have written about it a lot, but I wanted to use this fic to explore why I like it so much and maybe figure some shit out about myself while also being super self-indulgent in my favorite characters.
> 
> Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said 2-3 days but I was practically squirming these last 24 hours waiting to post the next chapter so here it is. And if there was any confusion, yes, they did fight the clown when they were 13, but the only difference is no memory loss when they leave. (There is some reference later but I wanted to make it clear)
> 
> Also this chapter was originally written as two chapters so if the POVs feel a little choppy, that's why.
> 
> Tiny TW for addiction here in the beginning in reference to Richie's smoking habits, and there's no explicit content but references to sexual behavior is made.

_Spinning like a girl in a brand new dress_

_We had this big, wide city all to ourselves_

_We blocked the noise with the sound of "I need you"_

_And for the first time I had something to lose._

"Holy Ground" - Taylor Swift

* * *

Eddie fell asleep almost immediately. After the initial panic of getting caught, followed by the relief of passing the “You are now leaving Derry” sign, Eddie was out. Richie was a little hurt. He imagined a long road trip, listening to music and talking nothing but bullshit and watching the scenery. But he also couldn’t blame Eddie. He had been so inside his own head lately. It was almost nice, him sleeping and Richie getting to just sit and think. He didn’t dare play music. He didn’t want to disturb the first real rest Eddie was getting in months.

But still, even though he wanted to give Eddie everything he wanted, he couldn’t help a selfish thought of wanting someone to take care of him. He wanted the person he was trying to be for Eddie. But did he really deserve that? Eddie deserved the world. He was kind and generous and so fucking cute it was unbearable. Richie was only a loud mouth and shitty opinions. He was Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier, and he was just unbearably annoying. Of course, he had to make sure he did everything he could to make Eddie stay with him. Sometimes he wondered how it was possible that Eddie even agreed to run away with him in the first place.

Richie drove and drove, not quite sure of the roads or where he was, only that he knew he was vaguely heading in the direction he was supposed to be going. It was easy, driving without planning, going without thinking. He didn’t have to worry about anything with the empty, open road in front of him.

It was around two hours into the drive, somewhere close to the Massachusetts border, that Richie could feel his truck struggling. It was old and run down and barely got him around town. It was a crapshoot to try and get to New York without stopping. He would have had to stop for gas anyway.

Richie pulled into a gas station and 24-hour diner combination, almost not wanting to wake Eddie and let him sleep as long as possible. It didn’t matter. Eddie started when the truck was put into park. He rubbed his eyes, and ran a hand through his messy hair. Richie caught himself staring like he did every time he spent the night. There was something so sweet and gentle about Eddie sleeping, Eddie waking up. 

“Where are we?” Eddie asked.

“Somewhere in southern New Hampshire,” Richie said. “Needed to stop.”

“You want me to drive?”

“No, I mean the truck needs to stop,” Richie clarified. “Piece of shit that she is.”

“And you wanted to go to California,” Eddie teased as he got out of the truck.

Richie followed out and told Eddie to go inside while he had a smoke first. Eddie looked a little sad, and really fucking cute with the red mark on his face where he had been leaning on his hand, and Richie felt bad, but he _needed_ a cigarette. Eddie would have to wait.

Richie always hated smoking alone. Bev was the one that introduced him to smoking, and it was always her that he did it with, so it felt wrong that he had to stand outside like a fucking loser smoking by himself. He was a loser, he thought, but he liked being a loser with someone else. On the rare occasion he did have to smoke alone, it was always out of necessity. He didn’t want to admit, and probably never would out loud, but he was addicted. His parents always warned him whenever they smelled it, his teachers always preached, and he always thought it was just something he did. Those stories were for people with no self-control. Not him. But he wouldn’t admit that he was wrong.

Richie finished and fought the urge for a second one because Eddie looked so lonely sipping his coffee inside. Richie went inside and sat in the booth opposite, immediately and automatically hooking Eddie’s feet with his own. He took a sip of the coffee that Eddie ordered for him, suddenly not as hungry as he thought he was when he pulled in.

“What looks good?” Richie asked trying to keep his mind occupied.

Eddie put the menu down. “How long do you think before our parents notice that we’re gone?”

Richie shrugged. “Don’t know. I left the note in my room so probably not for like a day at least.”

“I feel like my mom already knows,” Eddie said fiddling his hands. “I had a dream while I was sleeping that a police car pulled us over for speeding but it was my mom coming to take me home.”

Richie took Eddie’s hands to calm him down. They were in another middle of nowhere town that Richie knew would not take well to two boys holding hands across the table, but he reasoned they wouldn’t be there for more than an hour and those people could fuck right off and mind their own business.

“Even if she does,” Richie said, choosing his words carefully. “Even if she’s speeding down the road right now looking for you, you’re not going back. You’re 18 and she can’t make you, and I won’t let her.”

The lone waitress came out of the back, the noise from the door causing Richie to jump and let go of Eddie’s hands. So much for “fuck them”.

“Can I get you boys anything?” the waitress said through overlined lips. Richie wondered who she was trying to impress at 1 a.m. in this empty diner. He vaguely imagined her hopelessly flirting with the cook, both of them stuck here until the morning crew arrived at 6 or 7 or whenever.

“I’m good with coffee,” Richie said.

“Me too,” Eddie said quietly.

The waitress sighed and left without a word, likely going to complain to whatever poor soul was stuck in the kitchen about the stupid teenagers that aren’t going to spend more than two dollars here and probably stiff her on her tip. Richie decided he was going to leave her a 20, knowing the night shift must suck.

“How long do you think before we can go again?” Eddie asked, hands tight around his coffee mug.

“I’d give her at least an hour,” Richie said. “Why? You itching to go?”

“I just want to keep driving,” Eddie said. “Get as far away from Derry as fucking possible.” 

Richie never knew what to say, that was why he hid behind impressions and shitty jokes that for some reason Eddie always laughed at. Maybe that was why he did it. To make Eddie feel better. But he was stuck, physically and emotionally, in New fucking Hampshire, without a single word of advice or awful impression. All he could do was drink his coffee and wait, wait for his truck to cool down, wait for Eddie’s anxiety to go away, wait for his confidence to come back. But he had to question if he ever even had the last one.

He wanted Stan or Bev to be there to smack him upside the head and tell him exactly what to say to Eddie. He wanted to siphon off Bill’s confidence and take Eddie’s hands again, even though he knew the waitress was watching. He wanted something, anything, to remind him that they would be fine, whether or not they made it to New York. He wanted another cigarette.

“Keep driving so you can keep sleeping?” Richie said taking only a second longer than usual, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Shut up,” Eddie said letting a small smile slip and trying to hide it by sipping his coffee. “That’s why I got the coffee.”

“Good,” Richie said. “I made, like, a million mixtapes for the drive and I want to listen to them.”

“You could have woke me up.”

“But you’re so cute when you sleep,” Richie said reaching to pinch Eddie’s cheek. Eddie ducked out of the way, fully smiling now.

“What kind of mixtapes?” Eddie asked. “Richie music or good music?”

“Road trip, baby,” Richie said. “And one of all my favorite songs,” he added quickly at the end.

It was a joke, but Richie liked a lot of bad music, and Eddie hated it. Well, that wasn’t true. Eddie thought it was kind of endearing to an extent. He would think it’s funny for a song or two and then get annoyed and then get pissed. And Richie listened to it often. There was a lot of music they both liked, and most music they could get along about, but there were a good ten or so songs that Richie loved, and Eddie absolutely despised. And it was so fun to make him mad.

“I expect nothing less. I’ll let you listen to it _once_ ,” Eddie said.

“Aw, baby, you’re too good to me.”

They left about an hour later, hopped up on coffee and ready to complete their journey, or at least the next leg of it before the truck started heating up and they had to stop again, this time, just outside of Hartford. They didn’t stay, again, for more than an hour, hoping to race the clock and get their first view of the city at sunrise. It was close, and they almost missed it, the sun peaking over the tree line a few minutes before the city came into view.

It hurt Eddie in a way he couldn’t quite figure out to see the city. It was real, they were here, and there was no turning back. His mom would be awake in an hour or two and would notice he wasn’t there. Would she cry? Would she call the police? Would she call Richie’s parents? He imagined her walking into his room to wake him up since 9 a.m. is plenty late enough to sleep in, even if he’s no longer in school. She would be confused, read the note, and even if she didn’t wonder where he went, even if she didn’t call anyone about it, he could see the tears and hear her sobs as she sat on his bed, grieving her son.

The next song that came up on the mixtape was “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears, a song that both Eddie and Richie agreed was one of the best songs ever made, and Eddie choked back a sob. His mother had lost her son, and it was all his fault.

“You can’t start crying, Eds,” Richie said quietly, “cause then I’ll start crying too and then I can’t drive.”

“I’m not crying,” Eddie said, voice cracking and wiping his eyes.

“You’re the worst liar in the world,” Richie said.

Eddie looked over Richie in the driver’s seat, his eyes focused on the road ahead, New York traffic starting to build adding to Richie’s driving anxiety. He was from a small town where no one gave a shit how poorly you drove (and Eddie quickly noticed it was the same but also different here), and who knew if the truck would start overheating again or even stall. They had been going for close to two hours already, which seemed to be the limit, so trying to tough it out until they got into the city was probably not the best idea they’ve ever had.

But Eddie studied Richie as he concentrated going down the highway, his brow furrowed as he weaved in and out of traffic in an attempt to continue speeding down the road. The golden sunrise hit the side of Richie’s face, giving him a soft halo glow that made him more beautiful than ever. Eddie was in awe of how much he loved Richie in that moment, and how much simply looking at Richie made him feel better about leaving home. They didn’t run away for shits and giggles. They ran away for each other. Eddie just needed to be reminded of his love to understand that again. Eddie said he ran away for himself, which was true, but if he was being truly honest, he was hopelessly devoted to Richie and would follow him to the ends of the Earth.

“Hey, Rich,” Eddie said holding his gaze.

“Yeah, Eds?” Richie said glancing at Eddie before looking back at the road. “Stop staring at me, weirdo.”

“I love you.”

Richie smiled softly keeping his eyes ahead. “I love you, too.”

“Just wanted to tell you,” Eddie said finally breaking his stare and looking at the road.

“Okay,” Richie said. “Weirdo.” Richie reached his arm out and started blindly hitting Eddie’s face.

“Stop!” Eddie laughed. He grabbed Richie’s hand, thought for a second, then started kissing the knuckles. Gently, slowly, one at a time.

Richie let out a noise. “C’mon, baby, not now. I’m driving.”

“What?” Eddie said innocently, forgetting he was almost crying a minute ago. All he wanted now was Richie.

“We can get a room outside the city or something when we get closer,” Richie said.

“For what, love?”

“I’m gonna crash this fucking thing if you don’t stop,” Richie said with no tone of concern. 

Eddie knew it was fine. Richie would have taken his hand back if it wasn’t. He loved teasing Richie like this, loved having that power over his boyfriend. But who was he kidding? Richie had that same power.

They found a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city, Eddie cringing the entire time but also knowing they couldn’t afford anything cleaner. He completed a full inspection of the room, making Richie stand in the doorway so he wouldn’t mess anything up. No bedbugs, sheets washed, adequately dusted. The only problem was that the room was tinged a horrible yellow, a tint given off by either the light or the walls, Eddie had no idea, but he could live with it. Once he deemed the room clean enough, Richie came bounding in and tackled Eddie to the bed.

“God, Richie,” Eddie said catching his breath. “You suck.”

“Yeah?” Richie said rolling off of Eddie. “How hard?”

Eddie didn’t know if he wanted to play this game. He did, he really did, but he was exhausted, and they were in a shitty, gross motel room that may or may not have been cleaned properly because he was too tired to remember if he properly checked everything. All he could remember was the feel of Richie’s knuckles against his lips.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said rolling on his side to look at Richie. “Maybe you could show me.”

Eddie was too tired to process anything further, only Richie’s mouth on his, slowly working his way down, way too slow for Eddie but he let Richie take his time. Before he knew it, he had come, and was itching for a hot shower. But instead, he pushed Richie back and stuck a hand down his pants and got him off too. Eddie realized how freeing this was, not having to be quiet anymore. Their parents wouldn’t hear. They could do what they wanted…so why did he feel so guilty? He should have been happy. He really wanted to shower, but let Richie go first considering the circumstances.

Richie pouted when Eddie refused to join him in the shower, but let it go, when he realized Eddie needed some time alone. Eddie almost feel asleep waiting, but willed himself to not, desperately wanting the refreshing feeling of a burning hot shower. He hoped Richie wouldn’t use all the hot water up.

He traded places with Richie who was wearing only his shorts and who shook his wet hair out on Eddie before he disappeared to the bathroom.

Eddie turned on the shower and let the room fill back up with steam. He undressed and looked at himself in the mirror. Richie had left a hickey on his neck and he didn’t even realize. He must have been more exhausted than he thought.

He didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t know if it was how tired he was, both physically and emotionally, or because he was in a new place, new situation, new life. He still couldn’t believe he had just left like that in the middle of the night.

The mirror began to fog up, and he stepped in the shower, finally with a moment to think without the highway or the music or Richie’s singing to drown out his thoughts. He needed to piece things together, the gravity of it all. He started with what was fact, what was right in front of him. He was taking a shower in a shitty motel right outside of New York City. He had just gotten blown by his boyfriend who he gave a handjob to in return in the shitty bed of the same shitty motel. They left Derry around 11 p.m. the night before and drove through the night to get here. To this shitty motel outside of New York City.

Eddie moved on to the hypothetical, the very likely and probably happening right now or very soon. His mother would be waking up, deciding to let Eddie “sleep in”, and then would wake him later only to find the note. She would cry, she would fear for his safety, she might even construct a way to find him. But she wouldn’t. She would feel sad, yes, but she would move on. If her son wanted to be a homosexual deviant living on the streets of the dirtiest city in the world, so be it. If her son wanted to fuck his boyfriend in a shitty motel with spiders crawling between the walls while she was left all alone with no one to take care of her, then who was she to shed a tear?

Eddie suddenly felt very sick to his stomach.

He sat in the shower for a long time before deciding that thinking was too much for right now and got out. Richie had left his clothes on the floor, and even though it was dirty and needed to be washed, Eddie put Richie’s Ramones T-shirt on as well as his own shorts. The shirt was too big and hid his shorts from view, something he knew Richie would love.

He exited the bathroom to find Richie passed out in the bed. He tried to climb in without waking him, but Richie woke up as soon as the bed moved.

“Go back to sleep, love,” Eddie said quietly.

“You wearing my shirt?” Richie asked groggily.

“Finder’s keepers,” Eddie said crawling under the covers.

“You’re cute,” Richie said.

“I know.” Eddie curled up next to Richie and wrapped him in his arms, Richie pulling him close. Eddie tucked his head under Richie’s chin, taking in his warmth. He fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

Richie woke up in the early afternoon to an empty bed and empty motel room. Eddie was nowhere in sight. In a brief bout of panic, Richie ran through the possibility that Eddie had run off without him, leaving him alone in the big city. Eddie was a runner after all.

But no, Richie thought, Eddie had probably gone for a walk or something to clear his head. Richie let himself drift into a half-sleep as he ran over the situation he was currently in. He stole away in the night with Eddie to New York and somehow his truck had survived the journey. Now he was waking up in the afternoon, wishing Eddie was there to bother or cuddle or watch sleep. God, he wished Eddie was there. But Eddie needed his space, and Richie knew that. He just wished it wasn’t away from him.

Eddie was always the brave one, the one not scared to try new things and take off in the middle of the fucking night, leaving everything they’ve ever known behind. Richie might have suggested it, but he never expected Eddie to say yes, and he truly never expected them to go through with it. Richie was just feeling shitty that night and wanted something to make him feel better. But then Eddie took it to heart, and his panic attacks came often, and Richie knew he would have to commit or else risk Eddie staying stuck in Derry. Richie could deal with Derry, but he couldn’t deal with Eddie being forced to stay there too. Richie tried to convince himself he left Derry because he wanted to, but he knew he left to save Eddie.

The door opened and Eddie came in with two coffees. Richie didn’t move except to shove his face back into the pillow and groan loudly.

“Get up you big baby,” Eddie said. Richie heard him put the coffees down on the table, and was not prepared when the blanket was pulled off him.

“Fuck you,” Richie said into the pillow.

“Not right now,” Eddie said getting in the bed and sitting on Richie’s back so that he was straddling him.

Richie turned his head so that he wasn’t face first into the pillow. “How am I supposed to get up with you sitting there?”

Eddie leaned forward, balancing his head in his hands and his elbows on Richie’s back. “That’s the challenge. You want coffee? Get up.”

Richie could have played like Eddie was too big for him to get up, which would have been funny and gotten a laugh from Eddie, but Richie chose to dramatically shove Eddie off by flinging his body upwards. Eddie landed with a thump on the floor.

Richie put his glasses on to get a good look at Eddie. He was laying on the floor, covering his face in his hands. He still had on Richie’s shirt, but had changed to jeans to go out.

“I deserve that,” Eddie said taking his hands away and getting up.

“Sorry, baby,” Richie said holding out his arms. Eddie took the bait.

Richie grabbed Eddie when he was close enough, and threw him down on the bed. He pressed him down on the bed, holding his wrists next to his head, and straddled him. Eddie scrunched his face, trying to mock anger, but Richie could tell he was secretly enjoying this. Richie leaned down and kissed that stupid expression off his face.

“You have morning breath,” Eddie said when Richie pulled away.

“It’s 2 p.m.,” Richie said. “Your argument is invalid.”

“Fine,” Eddie said sarcastically. “You have afternoon breath.”

“Alright. I’ll take it.”

Richie got up and started rifling through his things to get dressed. Eddie got up and went over to the table where he had placed the coffees, and apparently also a newspaper. He started shuffling through it, found the section he wanted, and sat down on the edge of the bed to read it.

Richie found his clothes, dressed, and crawled on the bed behind Eddie, sneaking up behind him and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, leaning on him.

“Whatcha reading?” Richie asked.

“Classifieds,” Eddie said.

Duh. They wouldn’t be able to afford living in a motel room forever. Eventually they would have to find somewhere to live, get jobs, become independent adults. Somehow, Richie hadn’t thought of the technicalities of running away to New York. When he was thinking of it, he always saw him and Eddie in some undisclosed location, finally happy. It was always vague, never anywhere in particular. Maybe at some point Richie thought they would need jobs and a place to live, but New York always felt so far away until they were here. He never imagined having to think about it.

“Anything good?” Richie asked.

“Some things,” Eddie said. “A few places that aren’t too expensive and we could afford the deposit of. But I think we need to get jobs, like, right away.”

Richie groaned and pressed his face into Eddie’s shoulder.

“We’re officially adults, Richie,” Eddie said. “We gotta do adults things now.”

“I know,” Richie said. “It’s fucking stupid.”

“Did you think we could just run around New York without a single care?”

“No, but, fuck, I don’t know.”

“Sounds nice,” Eddie said dreamily. “But this is reality.”

“Alright,” Richie said getting up. “Let’s go do something then.”

They called around and got into one apartment in Brooklyn. It was a basement studio apartment with hardwood floors and cinderblock walls, and it was only $1000 a month. They took it, unsure of finding anything better or anything cheaper. 

The next day, they moved in, although it was more like throwing their bags and suitcases in the big empty room and realizing they had no furniture except the tattered dresser and tiny, wobbly table set left by the previous tenant. And they were almost out of money, especially after the month and a half deposit.

“You’re going to have to sell your truck,” Eddie said after taking a lap around the room.

“No fucking way,” Richie said taking a seat on the counter island.

“We don’t have anymore money, Rich,” Eddie said crossing his arms.

“We definitely do,” Richie said.

“We still need to eat.” Eddie went to stand between Richie’s legs. “I know she’s your baby, but we need the money.”

“Do we really?”

“Where are we sleeping?”

“The floor?” Richie suggested.

“Can we at least get a mattress?” Eddie hated having to do this. Richie loved his truck, and Eddie hated trying to convince him to sell it, but if they took their money to buy a mattress, they would have about ten bucks to eat until they got jobs and paid, which could take weeks. Any money they could get for the truck would be immensely helpful.

“Fine,” Richie said. “You’re lucky I hate driving here.”

The truck was awful, and they knew it wouldn’t be worth their time to attempt to sell it for a lot. Eddie could see the physical pain Richie was in when he suggested they take it to a junkyard, but he reluctantly agreed, making the concession for the sake of somewhere to sleep. They got a hundred bucks for it since most of the parts were still good and the rest could be sold as scrap metal.

Eddie lay next to a grumbling Richie that night, who he knew was not as mad as he let on, only milking Eddie’s sympathy as much as possible. It was nice, Eddie thought for the first time since arriving, to be here, next to the person he loved more than anything. He hadn’t thought about his mom or Derry all day, and he thought that maybe things would be okay. They would be okay.

“Hey, Rich,” Eddie said to a presumably sleeping Richie.

“Yeah, Eds?” Richie said through the dark.

“You alright?” Eddie asked.

“Yes? Why?”

“Well, you haven’t made a single joke about breaking in the new bed,” Eddie said egging him on.

Eddie could see Richie falter a second before adopting a smug grin, at least that’s what he thought he saw in the darkness. Before Eddie could think any further on that, Richie’s mouth caught his as he was pushed onto his back, Richie on top of him. Eddie, hungry and desperate, delighted that this was their bed in their apartment, pulled Richie close, hands roaming all over Richie’s body… 

Later, in bed, Eddie was laying on top of Richie on his chest, looking down at him. Richie had looked so sad all day, but now he was glowing, and Eddie was taking it all in.

“You remember the first time we had sex?” Richie asked.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “In the back of your…truck…” Maybe Richie selling his truck was a bigger deal than Eddie had realized. “We were supposed to just be stargazing, but you brought a shitload of pillows and blankets and were being so romantic.”

“You jumped me,” Richie laughed. “What was I supposed to do?”

“ _I_ jumped you?” Eddie asked. “If I recall, you were the one that brought a condom.”

Richie huffed. “It was just in case! I don’t know, I wasn’t really planning it that night.”

Eddie smiled fondly at Richie. “Yeah, me neither. Just felt right.” He paused. “You always felt right.”

Richie ran his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “Did I ever tell you how I figured out I was in love with you?”

“No,” Eddie said. “I don’t think you have.”

“It was Ben, actually,” Richie recalled. “He figured it out before I did. Guess I was always staring at you the same way he was staring at Bev.”

“Figures.”

“Ever the romantic, our Haystack,” Richie said. “He asked me that summer when we were thirteen if I was in love with you and I was so adamant that I wasn’t, but then I thought about it and…well…I was. I really was.”

Eddie remembered the day he and Richie got together. It was September. They were thirteen and walking home from school when some assholes came by hurling insults at them, but Eddie specifically. Richie stepped in, and they threw some punches at him, telling him he ought to shut the fuck up and mind his own business. Eddie took him home and cleaned him up, and even though he hadn’t thought about it before, something made him kiss Richie while he looked so helpless with his black eye and bleeding lip sitting on the toilet for “good ol’ Dr. K”. And the rest was history.

“Eds?”

“Hm?” Eddie said snapping out of his daydream.

“You think we’ll be together forever?”

“Forever’s a long time, Rich. I can’t predict the future.”

“You don’t have to promise,” Richie said. “Just tell me yes so I can feel better.” Richie’s eyes shone like every second was a battle. Eddie couldn’t promise forever. That was too much. He couldn’t promise he’d always love Richie, only that it was highly likely and the chances of them breaking up were so slim it was pointless to think about. The chance was there, but slim, almost nothing. And Richie was asking him to forget that slim chance, just for a moment.

“Of course, love,” Eddie said pressing a small kiss into Richie’s jaw. “Forever and ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I have anything to say here other than thanks for reading?
> 
> Probably put up the next chapter tomorrow <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: One use of homophobic language in the third paragraph and (very minor) reference to prescription drug abuse at the very end of the chapter

_I'm a loose bolt of a complete_ _machine._

_What a match,_

_I'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet._

_So, boycott love._

_Detox just to retox._

_And I promise you anything for another shot at life._

"Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes" - Fall Out Boy

* * *

Richie didn’t want to sell his truck, but Eddie had a point. He could sleep on the floor, sure, but like he told himself time and time again, recalling what Bev had said, this was for Eddie.  _ You need to be his rock _ . Eddie came first. Always.

So he sold his truck and made a hundred bucks and they bought a mattress to place on the floor. Eddie went on and on about how it wouldn’t be good and how they would need to get a bed frame as soon as possible, claiming mold would start growing inside it if they didn’t, and Richie tried to listen, but all he could think about was their next meal. They had already burned through most of his savings, and since Eddie didn’t have a job before they left (thanks, Sonia), he didn’t have much to his name. They wouldn’t have much food until they got jobs and who knew how long it would be before their first paycheck. It was for Eddie, he told himself. Eddie was the most important thing. 

But it was hard. It was hard that night, laying down on the mattress that reminded him of how stuck he was now. He never wanted to be stuck. He was stuck in Derry and now he was stuck in New York and it sucked. Even though this was where he wanted to be, he was stuck. He was helpless to move and that was everything he ever wanted. He bought the truck when he was fifteen and fixed it up, knowing he wouldn’t be able to drive it for another year (legally), but it was the freedom of owning it, the absolute unstoppable energy of owning something that could take him anywhere he wanted to go. Movement and freedom and ability to leave was what he lived for. Being constrained was what tied him to Derry and that inability haunted him. Stuck with the assholes that called him fag on a daily basis. Stuck with no opportunities to be the comedian he always wanted to be. Stuck with his parents.

He didn’t want to be stuck in New York too. He didn’t want to resent this place too.

But Eddie seemed so happy here. He took to it so well, immediately pulling things together and getting them the apartment and pushing the idea of jobs, all as soon as possible. Eddie was ready to live here forever. Richie didn’t know if he was.

Eddie had gone out for a run that morning leaving Richie to sleep in for another hour. He came back with a newspaper, discarding everything but the classifieds yet again. He pulled Richie out of bed, who only fought because it was funny to watch Eddie struggle getting him up. Richie eventually got up to go out job hunting, and skipped breakfast in doing so because he knew all they had was uncooked pasta and no pots to cook it in. He found it hard to believe that even Eddie had missed that crucial fact.

They went out, walking close and with a purpose, and Richie was almost inclined to take Eddie’s hand, but had to stop himself. When it was just them, or maybe their friends were there too, Richie lived for holding Eddie’s hand. It was such a simple form of intimacy that Richie enjoyed, and he knew Eddie did too. A reminder that he was still there, that their love wasn’t a dream.

They never could hold hands in Derry, not with the threat of getting the shit beat out of them. But Richie had to figure out New York first. It was the big city, and people probably wouldn’t give them a passing glance, but he still had to work up to it. He was still thinking about the guy that rented the apartment from asking if they both planned on living in that small space. Richie knew he imagined it, but he swore he saw a dirty look, the kind that said he didn’t like that.

Hand holding could be saved for another day.

Outside on the street, bustling with more people than Richie had ever seen in his life, Eddie grabbed his arm and pulled him to the phone booth and shut the door.

“I miss everyone,” Eddie said once the door was closed. He started digging in his pocket for some change.

“Me too,” Richie said picking up the receiver after Eddie put the coins in.

“Who are we calling?” Eddie asked.

“Bill obviously,” Richie said.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Obviously?”

Richie sighed. “It’s 11:30, right? Stan and Ben are fucking nerds who would never sleep in that late and are probably out doing nerd shit somewhere. Mike lives on a fucking farm where he gets up at the ass crack of dawn and is either working or out. Bev can’t sit still ever so she’s either wherever Ben is or fucking around in the woods somewhere. Bill’s the only one who is either still sleeping or he just woke up and is hanging out at home still.”

“Impressive,” Eddie said fondly.

“Basic math,” Richie said polishing his fingernails on his shirt. “I am a genius after all.”

He punched in Bill’s number and the phone rang once before Eddie grabbed it and hung it up.

“Baby,” Richie said. “Bill can’t hear us if you hang up the phone.”

“What if his parents answer?”

“So? Then we ask for Billy and they can get him.”

Eddie was wide-eyed and pale. Richie knew him the best out of anyone, probably even better than he knew himself, and sometimes Eddie surprised him with brand new anxieties that didn’t seem like something he should worry about.

“By now everyone knows we’re gone,” Eddie explained. “If his parents recognize us over the phone, maybe they can figure out where we are.”

It was stupid, Richie thought. There was no way Bill’s parents gave a enough of a shit about his friends to recognize their voices over the phone, and even more so, there was no way they could figure out where they were.

“It’s fine,” Richie said pulling out a quarter and putting it in the machine. He dialed Bill’s number again.

After a few rings, a very groggy Bill said, “Hello?”

“Big Bill,” Richie said moving the phone so Eddie could talk too. “How the fuck are ya?”

“I just woke up,” Bill said.

“How?” Eddie asked, anxiety gone. “I’ve been up since eight.”

“I’m sure Richard slept in though,” Bill said. “Can’t see him up be-be-before noon unless you make him.”

“I slept in, alright,” Richie said. “Eds wore me out last night and really needed that recovery.”

Eddie shot Richie a glare. “I’m going to kill you.”

Bill laughed. “Good to hear you guys are getting along.”

“Oh, everything’s just peachy,” Eddie said sarcastically.

“But how is New York?” Bill asked. “Everything you d-d-d…everything you dreamed of?”

“And more,” Richie said. “Rent is stupid high, food costs an arm and leg, and the drivers are fucking crazy.”

“We’re super poor now,” Eddie said. “Richie had to sell his truck.”

“Seriously?” Bill said. “So, you guys are, like, in it for the long run, huh?”

“You could say that,” Eddie said.

“We’re getting jobs today, apparently,” Richie said.

“Good luck,” Bill said.

“How’s Derry without us?” Richie said. “Boring as all hell I’d imagine.”

Eddie bit his lip and Richie knew what question he was trying not to ask.

“Actually,” Bill said, “the town is better than ever. Grass is greener, people are richer. And fuck, Richie, you wouldn’t b-b-believe that all the assholes in around here that called you guys names are really nice now. Turns out th-they weren’t homophobic, you were just that annoying.”

“You’ve been hanging around Stan too much,” Richie said rolling his eyes even though Bill couldn’t see. Eddie held back a laugh.

“You bet,” Bill said. “Speaking of which, I’m pretty sure he’s the one knocking at my door right now. One sec.” Richie heard the receiver be set down on the table.

After a couple seconds, Stan’s voice came through the phone. “Well, if it isn’t Thelma and Louise.”

“Miss you too, Stan,” Eddie said.

“Stanley,” Richie started, “I miss you so fucking much that if you were here, I’d leave Eddie in a heartbeat. It’s always been you, baby. I can’t believe I ran away with this little–”. Richie couldn’t finish because Eddie had pinched his side.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Stan said, who had to deal with Richie’s “confessions” at least once a month.

“How come you don’t love me that much?” Bill said.

“Don’t worry, Billy,” Eddie said. “I’m the one who’s secretly in love with you. I just don’t have Richie’s big balls to confess over the phone.”

“Should I go there so you can confess in person?” Bill asked.

“I’ll join you,” Stan said. “That way I can kick Richie’s ass in person.”

“Stan, how could you?” Richie said. “After all we’ve been through?” Richie fake pouted and placed a hand on his chest as if Stan could see him. He wished Stan was here right now, Bill too.

Just then, the phone started to beep, and it seemed their time was almost up. Richie didn’t dare pull out more money and neither did Eddie. Not when neither of them had eaten yet today.

“We have to go,” Eddie said. “Time’s almost up.”

“Okay,” Stan said. “Stay safe, guys.”

“Bye,” Bill said. “We love you.”

“Love you too,” Eddie said.

“Tell everyone else we miss them,” Richie said subdued. Their time was up. They didn’t get to talk to Bev or Ben or Mike, and he missed them just as much.

And with a final goodbye, they hung up the phone. Richie wiped a tear from his eye but tried to make it look like he was itching it.

Eddie silently took his hand, leading him out of the phone booth and down the street.

Their first stop was a general store about a block away from their apartment with a small handwritten help wanted sign in the front door.

_ Need cashiers. Few hours. No benefits. Night shifts. _

“Yeesh,” Richie said. “No wonder they need help.”

“Shut up,” Eddie said pushing open the door. “It’s work and it’s close.”

They went inside and up to the empty register. The store was packed to the brim with goods, both groceries and strange odds-and-ends like statues and crystals. Richie wondered what kind of person would own a store like this, only to get his answer a second later when a small, round man with salt and pepper hair stepped out from the back.

“You back about the job?” he said to Eddie as he stepped behind the counter.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Brought the friend I told you about.”

“Any good at work?” the man said with a strong New York accent, still talking to Eddie.

“He does his work if that’s what you’re asking,” Eddie said.

The man shrugged and finally looked at Richie. “Gino,” he said holding out a hand. “Owner, manager, and whatever fucking else needs to get done around here.”

A lot had happened in rapid succession and Richie was still trying to process all of it. Eddie was here earlier, probably stopping in during his run, and it honestly sounded like they both just got a job after a one-question interview he didn’t even have to do himself.

Richie shook Gino’s hand firmly, like his dad had taught him. “Richie.”

“Good shake,” Gino said. “If you can take direction, you’ll do fine.” Richie got strong The Godfather vibes from this man, like if he messed up, this guy would kill him, but if he did his job well, this guy would kill  _ for _ him.

“We can start as soon as you need us,” Eddie said.

“Yeah?” Gino said. “How’s tonight? My daughter has a dance recital.”

“Perfect,” Eddie said.

Gino gave a one-finger salute which Richie assumed meant they were dismissed, especially when Eddie turned to leave. Richie was about to follow when Gino said, “Richard.”

“It’s Richie,” Richie said.

“Okay,” Gino said. “So, Richard, what’s your deal?”

“I don’t…” Richie said. “My deal?”

“I ain’t the type to beat around the bush,” Gino said. “My eldest daughter is about to turn 18 and for some reason she tends to like toothpicks like you. Her boyfriend just dumped her I thought you might be interested in some company since it sounds like you’re new in town.”

“Oh,” Richie said. “Oh, no, I…um…I…”

“You with him?”

“Uh…” Richie mentally slapped himself.  _ Say something, stupid _ .

“No problem,” Gino said. “But at least now I know not to put you two on without someone else here.” He chuckled to himself. “Don’t need my customers not getting proper service cause my employees are fucking in the back room.”

Richie didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth and closed it, then frowned.

“Tell Eddie just him tonight,” Gino said. “You can start tomorrow.”

“Right,” Richie sputtered, and then quickly left the store, absolutely ready to get out of there. Gino gave him bad feelings, a sort of bad vibe he couldn’t quite shake or place.

Eddie was standing outside leaning against the wall. Richie hadn’t noticed earlier, but he was wearing those ripped jeans that his mom tried to get him to throw away last year. Richie forgot how good they looked, especially when paired with yet another one of Richie’s T-shirts.

“Ready?” Eddie said.

“I’m not just ready,” Richie said, “I’m ready,  _ Eddie _ .”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but his lips played at a small smile. “C’mon.”

Richie sidled up next to him and took his hand feeling much more confident that it didn’t matter. No one was going to hurl insults at them, and no one was going to kick the shit out of them. It didn’t matter here.

Richie told Eddie about the change in schedule, but not the feelings he got about Gino. Eddie had found them a job, and he wasn’t about to ruin it.

Eddie woke up early that morning due to both incessant nightmares and the unfamiliarity of the city. The city was nice and new and fun, but the sounds persisted into the night and Eddie couldn’t sleep while the city was still awake. He decided to let Richie sleep in, knowing his insomnia had probably kept him up halfway through the night, and went for a run, skipping breakfast while doing so. Probably not the best idea, but they didn’t have much to eat, and Eddie needed to go.

He kept his run short, not wanting to get lost or overextend himself, and finished when his head started hurting. As well as his legs, arms, back, and stomach. He found the general store and saw the help wanted sign in the window. He went in and grabbed some Ibuprofen, taking it up to the man behind the counter.

“I saw the help wanted sign,” Eddie said as he put down his purchase.

“You looking?” the man said.

“Me and my friend need a job,” Eddie said.

“Yeah, I could do that.”

“Both of us?” Eddie asked. “What about an interview?”

“Interview?” the man said. “This ain’t no fortune 500, kid. Long as you ain’t a killer, you can work here.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“Fine,” the man said. “Here’s your interview: what’s your name?”

“Eddie Kaspbrak,” Eddie said.

“Alright,” the man said. “You’re hired.”

The man, Gino as we know, picked up Eddie’s Ibuprofen, examined it, and put it back down without scanning it.

“What kind of pain?” Gino asked.

“Head,” Eddie said. “Legs, arms, everything.” He paused. “I can still work though.”

“By the looks of it,” Gino said, “you always got pain.”

Eddie cocked his head. “Can I buy this or do I have to go somewhere else?”

“You do, don’t you?”

Eddie bit his lip and studied Gino. Why was he asking this? Eddie could still work, so what did it matter? Everyone had headaches sometimes. It didn’t matter that Eddie was buying Ibuprofen. Didn’t this guy want his money? What was he getting at?

“What do you want from me?” Eddie decided to ask.

Gino scanned the bottle. “Nothing at all.”

Eddie paid him.

“But when that shit stops working, you let me know.”

Eddie left without saying anything else.

He was desperate. He wanted to go home and for things to be normal and to see his friends and for his mom to not hate him. But they couldn’t. Richie had sold his truck and now New York was their home. It didn’t stop everything in his body telling him that he needed something to make him feel human again.

Eddie was desperate when he pulled Richie into that phone booth. His breath hitched when Bill picked up the phone, thank god Richie didn’t notice. He stopped breathing for a few seconds when Stan’s voice came over the receiver. And then he felt nothing when they hung up. Richie was crying, and Eddie didn’t feel a goddamn thing.

He took Richie back to the store and got him the job with the strange man, and then they went walking around. 

Hand in hand, they walked down the street, no one giving them a second look. It was everything Eddie had dreamed when they decided to move to New York. It was everything he wished Derry had been. Eddie was still trying to decide if he liked the city more than Derry, or if he liked the freedom to hold Richie’s hand in public. The excess of people made him feel less self-conscious, like he was no longer the center of attention, but he liked the quiet peace of Derry. He distinctly missed those nights they would be out all night until the sun started peaking over the horizon and they would then start yawning, never having realized how time moved differently when it was just them, like the whole world was theirs.

Now things were easier and more complicated at the same time. It was easier to be with Richie in public, but in private he knew Richie was hiding something. There was a distance building between them he couldn’t quite figure out, although it didn’t help that Eddie was being secretive too, that his constant need to get their lives together was his loose way of coping over how much he wished they could go home and how he knew they couldn’t.

Richie pulled Eddie into a diner with a huge help wanted sign advertising a server position available, full time.

“A waiter?” Eddie asked as they walked inside.

“More like full time,” Richie said going up to the counter.

The diner was objectively hideous, but that was also how Eddie knew the food was good. Richie had taught him that. The uglier the diner, the crispier and greasier the food was. If there’s a bonus yellow tint to everything, then it was even better. If it was nicely decorated and completely clean, then the water was gross, and the food was never seasoned properly. Eddie couldn’t figure it out. He always imagined clean places having better food. He never let Richie know he was right.

At the counter was a woman in her forties, her red hair pulled back in a lazy ponytail, and her glasses askew on her face. She smiled brightly at them, as though she was genuinely glad they were here, and it wasn’t just her job.

“What can I do for you boys?” the woman said with a slight Southern accent. Her nametag read “Rhonda”.

“Well…Rhonda,” Richie said. “I’m here about the job posting.”

“Alright,” she said. “Have a seat here.” She pointed at the counter where Richie took a seat. Eddie hung back, unsure of what he was supposed to do. “You too, sweetie,” Rhonda said to Eddie.

He sat next to Richie.

“You know me,” Rhonda said. “I’m Rhonda, manager. You are?”

“Richie,” Richie said holding out his hand. Rhonda shook it.

Rhonda looked at Eddie expectantly.

“I’m not…” Eddie said. “I’m not looking for a job.”

“You still have a name,” Rhonda said, “dontcha?”

“Eddie,” Eddie said.

Rhonda looked back to Richie. “Well, Richie, you got server experience?”

“Nope,” Richie said.

“Customer service?”

“Worked at a movie theater, concessions.”

“When can you start?”

“Uh,” Richie said. “Today?”

“Alright,” Rhonda said. “I’ll be right back out with your uniform.” She disappeared to the back, and Richie looked at Eddie incredulously.

“I never thought getting jobs would be this easy,” Richie said.

“It’s cause they’re shitty jobs no one wants,” Eddie said. “No point in a long process because people probably come and go all the time.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Richie said. He picked up a salt shaker and shook it lightly, loosening the salt. “I’m hungry. Let’s stay for lunch.”

“You paying?” Eddie asked.

“Fine,” Richie said with some anger in his voice. “Where’s your second job, then?”

“Give me some time,” Eddie said defensively. “I was looking at office assistant positions earlier which will take longer to get.”

Richie sighed. “Sorry, I’m just…really fucking hungry.” He took Eddie’s hand. “Office job, huh? Sounds kind of boring if you ask me.”

“Health insurance and a 401k sound boring to you?” Eddie teased.

“When you put it that way,” Richie said. “At least you’ll be wearing ties and shit so I can do those moves they do in porns where I grab your tie and pull you in…” Richie pretended like he was grabbing a tie. “And then make out and fuck right there, usually on the copy machine or something.”

“You’re gross,” Eddie laughed. “Wait until I’m a CEO with my own city view office.” He leaned into whisper in Richie’s ear. “Then I can fuck you right up against my window so everyone knows you’re mine.”

Richie inhaled sharply. “Baby,” he said quietly. “You gotta shut up.”

Eddie couldn’t say anymore because then Rhonda came back out with three yellow button-down shirts for Richie.

“Here ya go,” Rhonda said handing them over. “How about you do a training shift today after I feed you?”

“That works,” Richie said. “And you don’t need to feed me. I’m fine.”

Eddie always remarked at how polite Richie was when it came to people that he didn’t know. Richie was such a fucking trash mouth around him that he forgot that Richie actually had a filter sometimes.

“You boys look like you’re starving,” Rhonda said. “And besides, if you work a full shift, I feed you anyway. Perk of the job.” She started moving around behind the counter, finishing up a few orders that had already been started. “Give me a minute, then I’ll make you boys some burgers.”

She made them their food and Eddie just about died over how good a burger could be when he was hungry. When they were done, Richie disappeared to the bathroom to change for his first shift. Rhonda reappeared in front of Eddie.

“Eddie,” Rhonda said. “You won’t be working here, but if you ever need anything, you can ask, alright?”

“Um…okay,” Eddie said, unsure.

“I can see it,” Rhonda said. “You boys are new here, yes? Moved from a small town to the big city hoping to run away from something. Me too. Bet we came here for the same reason, too.”

Eddie furrowed his brows. “What reason is that?”

“You and Richie are together, right?” Rhonda asked.

Eddie nodded.

“Thought so,” Rhonda said. “I came here when I was 17, so I know my way around. Anything you need, alright?”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, feeling the tears in his eyes that he wished had shown when he was on the phone with Bill and Stan.

Richie came back up front, looking absolutely awful in the shirt. He spun around and pulled some runway poses.

“Looking hot, Rich,” Eddie said.

“I could definitely be a model,” Richie said. “I’m tall, I’m skinny. What else do I need?”

“To be a model or just in general?” Eddie asked. “Cause I have list for the second one.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later.”

“Alright, alright,” Rhonda said. “Let’s go, Richie. We’ll get you started shadowing some people.”

Richie threw his other shirt at Eddie, who mouthed “Finder’s keepers,” at Richie who had to follow Rhonda to wherever they were going. Maybe New York would be okay.

They fell into an easy routine after that. Richie worked full time at the diner, picking up a few hours here and there at the market, and Eddie worked whatever hours Gino gave him, using the off time to look for any office jobs he could find. Unfortunately, they wanted experience, and they wanted education. Eddie sometimes played with the idea of taking some classes, but when their paychecks came in after two weeks and it didn’t even cover rent, the thought was gone. They set aside half their rent from their pay and used the rest to buy real groceries.

They also indulged in one item: a phone.

After over two weeks of rooting for loose change and praying that whoever they called was home, they decided that it was too hard to keep that up. This would be easier for everyone, and now their friends could call them instead of waiting around wondering when the next time would be. Richie had hour-long conversations with each of them on a schedule, five nights a week, and Eddie spent his time staring at the phone, waiting for the strength to pick it up. He talked to his friends usually when Richie was talking to them too, and Eddie called them sometimes, though not as often.

But he was saving his strength for something else. He desperately wanted to call his mom. He couldn’t decide if he was trying to call or stopping himself.

He went through his Ibuprofen way too fast.

Eddie’s headaches got worse, and included in that began a pain in his right arm. Most of the time, the arm pain was small and easy to ignore, but sometimes it felt like he had broken it all over again, and no amount of Ibuprofen could make it disappear. It was usually at its worst when he woke up from nightmares that morphed from his mother to Pennywise and back again. He didn’t tell Richie.

He went to buy more Ibuprofen at the end of a shift one day, and this time Gino refused to sell it.

“How bout something stronger?” Gino said.

“Need a prescription for that,” Eddie said. “And I can’t afford a doctor.”

“More like the right person,” Gino said and gave him a pharmacy address and a name to ask for.

Eddie stared at the piece of paper. The pharmacy was only a few blocks away, and Eddie was out of Ibuprofen, but it’s not like it was working anyway. Richie was still at work. Eddie headed for the pharmacy.

He asked for who he was looking for and the man asked what he needed.

“Gino sent me,” Eddie said.

The man nodded and disappeared behind some shelves, and reappeared with a pill bottle, placed it on the counter and told the price. Eddie winced, and his arm flared. He paused a second and did some math.

Richie smoked. Richie didn’t realize how much he smoked, but Eddie did. At least a pack a day, but sometimes more. Eddie knew how much of Richie’s paycheck went to cigarettes. He reasoned this was the same thing. If Richie could smoke, Eddie could buy these pills.

He gave the man the money and took the pill bottle. He examined the bottle that had 60 pills in it, usually a 30-day supply when taken properly, Oxycontin. Eddie knew it was highly addictive, so he sat on it for a few days, taking a few minutes here and there to just stare at the bottle. But his arm hurt…a lot. And so did his head, and the rest of his body, too. After about a week, he opened it and took two, even though the label said one.

And everything was fine for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, here comes the real angst I guess :/
> 
> But in lighter news, if you couldn't catch, Rhonda is gay also, and as a lesbian myself, I can confirm that anytime I encounter a young queer person I immediately adopt them. Like "Oh, you're gay? I'm your mother now" and you can ask any of my friends and they can confirm this as well, and that's the perspective I wrote her from.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

_I'm sorry, Mother._

_I'm sorry I let you down._

_Well, these days I'm fine._

_No, these day I tend to lie._

"Amsterdam" - Imagine Dragons

* * *

At some point when they started getting comfortable, Rhonda invited them over for dinner to feed them properly and to meet her lover, Bobby. Her words. Eddie was only a little uncomfortable because he wasn’t the one who spent everyday at the diner with Rhonda, and barely knew her as more than Richie’s boss. But Richie was thrilled to see where she lived for some reason, so Eddie went along with it, and decided he would be fine as long as he took two pills before they went.

Rhonda didn’t live too far from them, only a few blocks north. Rhonda answered the door wearing an apron that said, “Kiss the cook” and Eddie giggled at how stupid it was.

The apartment wasn’t all that much nicer than theirs, but it did have a bedroom and real furniture, which Eddie was beginning to think was the height of luxury. Rhonda had set up a card table and folding chairs in the living room, admitting that her and Bobby usually eat while sitting on the couch.

“We eat good meals,” she said after instructing Eddie and Richie to make themselves and home, and walking to the kitchen, “but we ain’t classy half the time. We don’t feel like we need to be.”

Richie took a seat on the couch and Eddie sat next to him, turning and draping his legs over Richie’s who place his hands on Eddie’s thighs.

“So,” Richie called to the kitchen, “where is the infamous Bobby?”

“Coming home from work,” Rhonda said. “Should be home any minute.” Rhonda came out of the kitchen carrying a pot and placed it on the table.

As if on cue, the front door opened and in came a woman with cropped dark hair.

Rhonda leaned over and kissed her, running back into the kitchen after and shouted out, “Boys, this is Bobby. Bobby, boys.”

Richie hopped up throwing Eddie off of him, and ran over to shake Bobby’s hand. Bobby was almost as tall as Richie, and Eddie already kind of loved her because of it.

“Richie,” Richie said aggressively shaking Bobby’s hand.

“Yeah,” Bobby said. “I heard about you. The guy who thinks he’s funny.”

“I  _ am _ funny,” Richie said incredulously.

Bobby raised her eyebrows. “Sure, sweetie.”

“Rhonda!” Richie yelled. “Are you telling lies about me?” He stomped into the kitchen to tell Rhonda off.

Eddie stepped up to Bobby and introduced himself.

“So, Eddie,” Bobby said. “What brings you boys to New York?”

“Uh…” Eddie said, not sure where to start.

“Wait,” Bobby said. “Let me guess. I know you boys are queer. And from a small town? Say no more.”

Eddie nodded, confirming Bobby’s guess.

“Yup,” she said. “Rhonda and I are the same. Only difference is we met here, and the 70s and 80s were a hell of a lot worse. Ain’t saying that to get pity cause I’m glad you boys get things better. Just noticing a difference.”

“How long have you and Rhonda been together then?”

Bobby pulled out her hands and started counting on her fingers. “Let’s see, if I’m 42 and it was ‘70 when I moved out here and Chet died in ’85, it would be 12 years now.”

Eddie whistled, and realized that was almost as long he had known Richie. He almost felt bad for people finding someone to love as adults, and not growing up with someone. He felt so connected to Richie in ways he couldn’t explain. Even when he was mad at Richie, he never felt like that could ruin them. Nothing would.

“You boys are 18, right?” Bobby asked.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“And you’ve been together how long?”

“Since we were 13,” Eddie said. “…Almost five years now.” That couldn’t be right. It felt both too long and not long enough, like the time flew by but also like Eddie had spent all 18 years of his life with Richie.

“That’s real lucky for you,” Bobby said. “Real lucky you boys found each other so young. Don’t forget that.”

Eddie took that to heart. He always felt lucky to have Richie.

Rhonda brought out the rest of dinner, and the four of them ate, talking on and on about nothing and everything, until Rhonda let it slip how much she enjoyed having them over, and how nice it was to see them not give up on New York.

“It’s just,” Rhonda said, “after what happened, a lot of queer people, men especially, stopped coming to the city.”

“What do you mean?” Richie asked.

“Rich,” Eddie said taking Richie’s hand. “You know.”

Richie looked at him so intensely, and nodded. He turned back to Rhonda. “It wasn’t the city’s fault.”

Rhonda nodded losing her happy-go-lucky energy that Eddie always saw her with.

“I mean it,” Bobby started, “when I say you boys gotta look out for each other. Ain’t nothing scarier to a lot of people than two queer boys living in New York.”

“You can say that again,” Eddie muttered thinking about his mom.

“You can come to us,” Rhonda said. “For anything you need.”

Bobby nodded in agreement. “We ain’t in the business of losing anyone else.”

“Who–,” Richie started but stopped himself.

“My brother, Chet,” Bobby said, “was the first of our gang to go in ’85. Then they left us one by one till it was just me and Rhonda and a few other girls. Gay men didn’t survive the ‘80s, and the few that did aren’t doing too hot now.”

“I think that’s enough of that,” Rhonda said standing up and cleaning up the table.

“They need to know,” Bobby said. “They need to know their history.”

Rhonda didn’t say anything further and continued cleaning up the table. Richie got up to help her even though she told him she had it.

“I mean it, boys,” Bobby said. “Look out for each other. Cause right now, you’re all each other has.”

They survived the summer, falling into finally being comfortable with their surroundings and effectively learning how to manage their money. Eddie was invited back for a second interview at an insurance company downtown as the office assistant. It wouldn’t pay much, but it would get him in the door. And maybe he’d be able to afford the sleeping pills the pharmacist kept pushing on him when he confessed his nightmares. Either that or he’d have to convince Richie the insomniac to buy them, and that probably wouldn’t happen.

Eddie tried to pretend they were still super in love and wild and crazy like they wanted to be, taking Bobby’s words to heart and constantly thinking about how they were all each other had now, and they were for a little while, but Richie had gotten distant. But Eddie couldn’t lie to himself, so had he.

Before long it was late August, and Ben and Bev were on their way, stopping off in New York to visit while on their way to California. Eddie really hoped that it would help things, that things would change and get better. God, Eddie wanted things to get better. He wanted to see his friends and hear news from home and spend time with people who made him feel sane. These people didn’t know who he had become in New York. It would be like nothing had changed.

They got there late afternoon one day when Richie was working and Eddie was not. He greeted them outside as they pulled up. Bev was getting out of the car before Ben even put it into park, and she ran at Eddie, enveloping him in a warm hug. He held her tight, pressing his face into her shoulder. She felt exactly the same, and Eddie felt a few tears escape. He missed her so much.

They let go and Eddie moved to give Ben a hug too. At some point over senior year, he got really tall, and towards the end and after they left, he started getting really fit. Ben wrapped him in a strong hug, squeezing Eddie tight.

“This place is great,” Bev said turning in circles looking around the city street.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” he said. “We’re in a really shitty neighborhood.”

“It’s wonderful,” Bev said slapping her hands on Eddie’s face. “Show us inside.”

“No way,” Eddie said shaking his head. “That trash heap is for mine and Richie’s eyes only.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Ben said.

Eddie pursed his lips. “Maybe we should just go bother Richie at work.”

Bev took Eddie’s hand. “Sounds fun. Lead the way.”

The two of them walked ahead, hand in hand, and Eddie almost felt bad for stealing her away from Ben, but the selfish part of him loved that she was giving him so much attention. Ben looked on fondly, and Eddie knew that this was just how she was. Bev loved her friends with everything she had, and it felt so good sometimes. Or maybe she could sense how much he needed it. Either way, he soaked up everything she was giving.

They talked idly about the drive down and into the city and how it was no wonder Richie was so willing to sell his truck, the traffic was murder. It was “how’s your job?” and “you ready for Stanford?” and nothing of any importance, like they had never been away from each other.

They reached the diner and were barely inside when Eddie heard Richie call: “Is that Beverly Marsh?”

“In the flesh, Trashmouth,” Bev said as Richie barreled into her, lifting her off the ground with a hug.

He set her down and turned on Ben. “Haystack!” He wrapped his arms around Ben who did the same. “Fuck, dude,” Richie said as they let go. “You got strong.”

Ben shrugged. “I’ve been working out more.”

“I’ll say,” Richie winked. “Ben Hanscom? More like Ben  _ Handsome. _ ”

“That’s enough,” Eddie said stepping between them and pressing himself close to Richie, something that felt strange and out of place. Eddie couldn’t figure out if he was doing it because Ben and Bev were there, or if he was secretly grateful that he still felt jealous when Richie flirted with their friends.

Richie slid his arms around Eddie’s waist. “Aw, baby, are you jealous?”

Eddie placed his hands on Richie’s chest. “Maybe.”

Richie placed a small kiss on Eddie’s lips.

“Get a room,” Bev said pushing past them to find a table.

Eddie moved away from Richie remembering that they were in public. Things had gotten easier, but somehow stayed the same. They got more confident, comfortable, with being together in public, not so scared to hold hands or quickly kiss while other people were around, but as soon as they remembered other people existed, there was always that panic that wouldn’t go away no matter how much they tried to convince themselves that no one cared. That panic wouldn’t go away for a long time.

But there was something else in Eddie’s jerky movements that he refused to acknowledge. He knew he and Richie were playing a game of chicken. Who would crack first? They were growing apart because they were lying and keeping secrets and pretending like things were fine when they weren’t and neither of them would say anything. So, they acted like they always did by pretending to be jealous and wrapping each other in their arms, remembering how much they loved each other and trying to forget how different things were. Who would break first?

Ben followed Bev close behind, sitting next to her in the booth she picked out. They scooted close, and Ben put his arm around her as they grabbed the menu tucked away on the table and started reading it. Eddie studied them, trying to remember if it was ever that easy for him and Richie. It must have been, but this game had been going on for months and Eddie was starting to forget.

“Hey, Rhonda,” Richie yelled to the back room. “I’m going on my break.” He took off his apron and tucked it behind the register.

“No way in hell,” Rhonda said coming out, “are you taking another smoke break–” She stopped when she saw Eddie. “Oh, I see. Your distraction is taking you away?”

Richie let out a whiny sigh. “My friends are here.” He gestured to Ben and Bev. “Thought I could go talk to them.”

“Friends?” Rhonda said eyes lighting up. “Well, go on.” She shoved Richie and Eddie toward the table who squeezed in the booth when they got there. “Introduce me,” Rhonda said to Richie.

And Richie did.

“What brings you two out here?” Rhonda asked Ben and Bev. “Can’t possibly for these two dorks?”

Bev let out a laugh. Ben smiled.

“On our way to California,” Ben said. “Moving out to Stanford and thought we ought to give these two a visit.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bev said. “I’m here for this wonderful woman’s food that she plans on serving us. I honestly think these guys are stalking us.”

“But Bevvie,” Richie said. “How could you? You know I wuv you.”

“And I hate you, Trashmouth,” Bev said.

Rhonda laughed. “I like her. Reminds me of Bobby,” she said to Eddie.

“I see it,” Eddie said. “Though I think I like Bobby better.”

Bev kicked Eddie under the table.

“Who’s Bobby?” Ben asked grinning.

“My lover,” Rhonda said. “Wonderful gal, right boys?”

Eddie nodded.

“Better than Rhonda, I’d say,” Richie said.

Rhonda pulled out her pad of checks and smacked Richie with it. She let them know to call when they wanted to order and left them alone for the time.

Bev balanced her head in her hand. “Lover…” she mused. “Sounds romantic.”

“You’d think so,” Richie said, “fucking weirdo.”

“We usually just say her wife,” Eddie said.

“They’ve basically adopted us,” Richie said.

“That sound weird,” Eddie said. “More like our guiding force.”

“They’re both my mom and I love them,” Richie said.

“Yeah, I can agree with that,” Eddie said.

“Why don’t you call me your lover, Eds?” Richie asked turning to Eddie.

“You can say it first, Rich,” Eddie said.

Ben had to chime in. “As adorable as this is, doesn’t Eddie already call you ‘love’?”

“No one needs your logic, Haystack,” Richie said crossing his arms.

“You’re just mad my boyfriend’s smarter than you,” Bev said.

Richie stuck his tongue out her. She retaliated by flipping him off.

And suddenly Eddie was back in time, reliving every double date the four of them went on, the only difference being that Eddie could take Richie’s hand if he wanted to. He remembered dinners and movies and whatever else they could come up with, all of them together because it felt more right to do things as a group than as a couple. When Ben and Bev got together in junior year, Richie was all over it, claiming that he and Eddie would remain the superior couple, but soon Richie conceded, telling Eddie in secret how hot they both were and perfect they were for each other.

Richie threw his arm over the back of the booth, not quite around Eddie but close enough, just like they used to do. Eddie never agreed with Richie. He always thought that the two of them were more perfect than Ben and Bev, fitting together in a way that felt natural. He never had to think about how to be with Richie, he just existed, and it was good. They had been together for years and he never had any inkling that something could be wrong with their relationship. At least, he used to think that way.

After fifteen minutes, Richie was forced to go back to work, even though Rhonda could have easily handled the two other tables seated in the diner.

Once out of earshot, Bev turned to Eddie and said, “He seems sad.”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “I picked up on that.”

Eddie shrugged, picking at his fingernails, trying not to make eye contact.

“Has he not said anything?” Bev asked.

Eddie tried to look anywhere but at his friends. Suddenly the wallpaper became very interesting.

“Are  _ you _ okay, Eddie?” Ben asked.

Eddie tried to push aside the thought that he took three pills about an hour before his friends showed. He had grown used to feeling dizzy because it kept the pain away, but he really needed to focus now or else his friends would start getting suspicious. An anxiety he had been suppressing for months began to surface, and he worked to keep his breathing normal.

“Don’t know,” Eddie shrugged.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Bev said. “Honey, you can talk to us.”

Eddie took a deep breath. “Something’s wrong.”

“Wrong?” Ben asked. “With you…or Richie?”

“Both?” Eddie asked. “I don’t think Richie likes it here.” That was the first time he admitted to anyone, including himself. It made sense. Richie was hiding behind the face he always put on. In Derry, Eddie had somehow managed to tear down Richie’s walls and discover his insecurities. Richie let himself be vulnerable with Eddie in a way that he hadn’t been since they go to New York.

“I don’t think he’s adjusting to city life,” Eddie continued. “He never…he never planned…”

He couldn’t keep going.

“Have you talked to him?” Ben said. “That sounds like something you should talk about.”

“Then what?” Eddie asked slightly irritated. “He’s either going to deny it which will make things worse, or admit it, which is just as bad because he sold his truck and can’t leave and all that’s left to do then is break up with me because I’m the one who made him come here in the first place.”

Ben and Bev were quiet for a second, and Eddie knew he was right. That didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

“Maybe,” Bev said. “But do you think Richie deserves this?” She gestured vaguely at Eddie. “You’re not okay, Eddie.”

“It’s never been about me,” Eddie said. “If I let Richie know how shitty I’ve been feeling, it’ll make him feel worse. I can’t do that do him.”

“He loves you, Eddie,” Ben said.

“I know I’d want to know if you were going through some shit,” Bev said.

Eddie shook his head.

Bev opened her mouth to say something when Richie came by to deliver their food.

“Soup’s on,” he said placing their meals down.

Eddie suddenly wasn’t very hungry, but he pulled himself together like he always did, and looked up at Richie with fluttering lashes. “Thanks, handsome. You’re a very good waiter and I think I may have to cheat on my boyfriend with you.”

Richie winked. “I know him and I think he’d let me.” He ran a hand through Eddie’s hair before walking away.

Eddie turned back to Ben and Bev. “I love him more than anything in the world and I’ll be fine. I don’t need him to worry about me, or anything else.”

They turned to their food as Eddie did his best to steer the conversation away from Richie. The two didn’t bring it up again, but Eddie could read the calculation in their eyes as they silently told each other they’d talk later, trying to decide if they would bring it up to Richie. Eddie decided they could do whatever they wanted and he’d deal with it. Just like everything else he dealt with.

He loved his friends and knew they wanted the best for him, but he really wanted to handle this by himself. If anything, it was all for Richie, he told himself.

Richie debated begging Ben and Bev to take him the rest of the way to California. From Stanford, he could hitch a ride to Los Angeles and be in the city and even farther from Derry. He debated for second, a daydream, and then returned to reality when he knew he couldn’t abandon Eddie. He constantly had to remind himself why he put up with everything he did: the yelling and the condescending tones at work, and the inescapable feeling of missing home. It was all for Eddie.

Eddie seemed fine. He seemed like New York was where he belonged, but there was something else. There was something wrong with Eddie and he couldn’t quite place his finger on it. So, he kept up appearances and didn’t tell Eddie about the shit he was dealing with, both job-wise and mentally. He just had to power through. For Eddie.

It was good seeing Ben and Bev for a second before returning to work, and it felt for a second like it did back in Derry, only this time they could actually call it a double date rather than “hanging out”. Bev was here and Richie would get the smack upside the head he needed, and Ben was here and Richie would get the kind, uplifting words he needed. He wished everyone was here, but this was better than nothing.

Richie met his friends back at his place after work, desperate for sleep but knowing it would be hard to get some, both due to his insomnia and because he wanted to hang out with his friends all night. The three of them were sitting around the table, and Bev lit up when Richie walked in.

“Richie!” she said. “Good news!”

Eddie kicked her. “Can I tell him?”

Bev rolled her eyes. “I guess.”

Eddie stood and walked up to Richie. “They called. I got the job.”

“The office assistant job?” Richie asked.

Eddie smiled and nodded.

“Oh my god, Eds!” Richie said wrapping Eddie in a tight hug. “How long before you’re CEO?” Richie whispered in Eddie’s ear.

Eddie pulled back and pinched Richie’s side. “Beep, beep, Rich.”

Richie looked around at Ben and Bev’s smiling faces, and then back at Eddie who was beaming despite Richie’s lewd comment. He felt…something.

“Think I need a smoke,” Richie said moving toward the door. “Bev?”

“Trying to quit, actually,” Bev said. “Sorry, Richie.”

“That’s fine,” Richie said, voice cracking. He stepped outside and leaned against the railing by the stairs. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it quickly, desperate for something to calm him down.

The door sounded behind him.

“Thought you didn’t–” Richie started but stopped when he saw Ben.

“What’s wrong, Richie?” Ben asked standing next to Richie.

“I don’t know what your talking about,” Richie lied.

“You may be able to trick Eddie,” Ben said, “but I’m not falling for it.”

Richie took a pull on his cigarette and watched the cars. He never thought he would get used to the noise, but after a few months, he could barely hear it anymore.

“I feel stuck here,” Richie said. “Even this place feels small without a way to get out. And everything feels so permanent now that Eddie got that job.” He paused. “I know we needed money, but I wish I had never sold my truck.”

“Does Eddie know?”

“Hell no. He’s so happy here, I can’t do that to him.” He paused long enough to get halfway through his cigarette. “I can work it out on my own.”

“You don’t have to,” Ben said. “Even if you don’t want to bother Eddie, we’re all here for you. A phone call away.”

Richie sighed and hesitated only for a second. “Ben?”

“What’s up?”

“I think Eddie’s doing drugs.”

Ben only looked at Richie, mouth slightly open, then nodded. “Why do you think that?”

Richie shrugged. “I don’t have proof, but…” Another pull. “He seems off. He hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s bringing home less money than I feel like he should be. And…and you saw the bags, right? Under his eyes?” He sighed. “I want to be wrong, but I don’t feel like it’s anything else. But I can’t bring it up because what if he is just depressed or sick or some other stupid fucking thing? Then I’m the asshole.”

Richie wiped his eyes, only then realizing he had started crying. Ben slipped his arm around his shoulders.

“What do I do?” Richie asked in a voice he didn’t recognize. He had been pushed to his limit. He wanted someone to tell him what to do and to do exactly what they said. He wanted someone to take care of his problems for him. He wanted Eddie to be okay and to stop being so secretive. And if he was being honest, he wanted his parents.

Ben didn’t answer for a second. Richie tried to give him time, but he needed answers now.

“Ben, please,” Richie said quietly.

“I don’t know, Rich,” Ben said even quieter. “I agree with you, and I’ll say Eddie seems off, and you’ve been around him more so if you think it’s drugs, I’ll believe you, but…” Ben looked up to the sky. “I really, really don’t know what you should do. All I can say is…it seems like something’s wrong, like the two of you need to sit down and have a real conversation.”

Richie sat on that. A real conversation about what? Eddie’s problems? Richie’s? Probably both, but Richie didn’t want to talk about himself, not if he was handling it. He would be fine. It was Eddie he was truly worried about.

Richie finished his cigarette and pulled out another one. He only had one more left after that and decided that he might as well finish the box and walk down to the corner to pick up another one while he was standing around outside.

Ben moved to stand in front of Richie. “There’s something else,” Ben said. “You need to call home.”

“I do every day, dude,” Richie said trying to deflect the statement.

“You know what I mean,” Ben said.

“Why?” Richie said lighting his cigarette. “What could I possibly have to say to them?”

“Look,” Ben said adopting his ‘do-it-or-don’t-but-you-definitely-should-because-I-know-what’s-best-for-you’ voice, “you know my mom goes to the same salon yours does, and my mom knows I’ve been talking to you. I was trying to decide if I should, and I didn’t even tell Bev about this but…your mom misses you. And your dad, too.” Ben paused and took a breath. “I think they feel bad and want to make things up. But they don’t know how to contact you and I wasn’t about to give your phone number out if you didn’t want me to, but I think you need to call.”

Richie took a pull on his cigarette and looked at the ground. Ben was always so much better at being a person than Richie was. He admired all of his friends for everything they were, but Ben always had his life in order more than any of them. Just talk to them, Ben would say as if it was that easy. It was for him. He wrote that poem to Bev when they were thirteen, and then he had a real fucking conversation with Bill when he started dating Bev to make sure they were cool. It was so easy for Ben to “just talk to people”. Richie wished he could. To his parents. To Eddie. Fuck, why was being an adult so goddamn hard?

Richie eventually nodded, and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Ben took that as the best answer he was going to get and went back inside while Richie finished his cigarette, and then the next one, and then walked down to the corner to pick up another pack.

Ben and Bev stayed for three days, and Richie and Eddie maintained some kind of air of normalcy while they were around, but Richie had to admit things had stagnated. Him and Eddie had gotten worse over time, but they seemed to hit a rut where they couldn’t get any worse. But they also couldn’t get better either.

While Ben and Bev were there, Richie and Eddie still had to work, but they still tried to be good hosts and make them dinner and take them around to their favorite spots. And when they left, things felt both wrong and right at the same time. Richie missed his friends the moment they pulled away. He wanted them to stay forever because he hated admitting that he was lonely, even with Eddie around. But he also felt relieved that the two of them were heading for great things together. They would love California, and now he could get back to the life he finally got used to in New York. No more disruption, only consistency and routine.

But there was still that thing weighing in the back of his mind. He didn’t want to call. He couldn’t. And the worst part was that he couldn’t tell Eddie either. After that night, Richie pulled Ben aside to ask about Eddie’s mom, and Ben just shook his head solemnly and said “It’s like he never existed.”

Richie didn’t tell Eddie. Not when he knew it would break Eddie’s heart.

He kept going with that, thinking and trying and failing, for a month. He thought about it so much he could barely fake being interested in Eddie’s new office job, even when Eddie showed him around. Richie loved the blush on Eddie’s face when he sat on Eddie’s desk and grabbed his tie and pulled him in, but it also felt like just another motion he had to go through to fake being happy for Eddie’s sake. He wished he loved it more, and that it felt natural and not like he was acting at being himself. He thought he had moved past the robotic feelings he had those last couple years in Derry, but it seemed New York only emphasized them.

He kept things up for a month, until he sat down in front of the phone while Eddie was working a late shift at the market, and picked up the phone and dialed his parents’ number.

It rang four times before someone picked up.

“Hello? Tozier residence.”

“Mom?” Richie said.

A pause. “Richie? Richie, is that you?”

The tears were already forming behind Richie’s eyes but he willed them away. “Yeah, mom. It’s me.”

A change in her voice. “Oh, thank God! Your father and I have been so worried. Where…where are you, sweetie?”

“We went to New York. The big apple.”

His mom let out a soft laugh. “Always knew you were a city boy at heart.”

Richie smiled.

“Richie, I…We love you,” his mom said gently. “Whoever you are or want to be. We love you so much. We want to see you again.”

There was no more holding back as Richie let out a sob. “I love you, too, mom. But I can’t come home.”

“Sweetie, of course you can. You can always come home.”

“No, I – I sold my truck. I’m stuck here, and I can’t – I want to go home so bad,” Richie cried into the phone. “I miss you so much.”

“That’s okay, sweetie,” his mom said. “That’s okay. We’ll figure something out…How’s – how’s Eddie?”

_ How’s Eddie? _ Could Richie even answer that? “He’s – he’s…not good, mom. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Not good?” his mom asked very concerned. “Is he…sick?” She said that last word with an air of good old-fashioned Derry ignorance, while also not wanting to name her fear.

“No,” Richie said quickly. “No, nothing like that. He’s just sad, I think.”

“Are you there for him?” his mom asked. “Because I don’t think he ought to call his mom. If he’s not good, he might not like what he gets.”

Richie nodded even though his mom couldn’t see.

“Oh,” his mom said. “Your father just walked in.”

Richie lit up. “Let me talk to him.”

Before he realized, the phone had been passed to his father. “Rich?”

“Hey, dad.”

“I’m…glad to hear you’re okay.”

“Just fine, dad.”

His dad cleared his throat. “Yes, good. So, um, are you planning to visit…anytime soon?”

Richie paused and pressed his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes, and breathing in heavily. “I think I can around Christmas.”

“Good, good,” his dad said. “Maybe your mother and I can pay you a visit around Thanksgiving…if you don’t mind having us.”

“That sounds…” Richie said. It was the end of September. Two more months of holding out before he would see his parents again. It seemed like tomorrow and a lifetime. Did he even want them to see his shitty apartment? The lack of furniture and the tight space? And what would happen to him and Eddie before then? Richie couldn’t help but think of the worst. “I would love to have you for Thanksgiving.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good, Rich.” Richie could practically hear his dad rubbing his chin. “Perhaps I should go.”

“Oh,” Richie said. “Okay.”

“Your mother says that she loves you and sleep tight,” his dad said. “And I…love you, too, son. Always will…no matter what.”

Richie felt the tears flow again. “I love you, too, dad.”

And with that the conversation was over. Richie slowly turned away from the wall, only to find Eddie watching him from the doorway.

“How’s Derry?” Eddie asked coolly.

“Fine,” Richie said unsure of where the conversation would go.

“Your parents?”

“Fine.”

Eddie nodded, eyes shining. “You call them often?”

“Just today.”

“Why now?” Eddie said. “What changed?”

Richie thought. Should he tell him what Ben said? It would be right, but then Eddie would want to call his mom and that was the last thing Richie wanted to happen. Eddie didn’t need anymore heartbreak, not if Richie could help it. But Eddie didn’t deserve lies either.

“Ben told me to,” Richie said. “When he was here, he said my mom was really worried.”

“That was over a month ago,” Eddie said.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been thinking about calling home for a month.”

“Yup.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

The ball had dropped, and Richie could feel the rising tension. It wasn’t just this last month that felt wrong, it was them. It was months of hiding feelings in the diary of his mind, not sharing with anyone but the metaphorical gun pressed against his temple every fucking day of his life. It was catching up. Eddie knew he was hiding this, so now he was suspicious. What else was Richie hiding from him? Richie didn’t know if he should spill everything now or wait to gauge Eddie’s reaction.

“I want to call my mom,” Eddie said moving for the phone.

“You can’t,” Richie said blocking him.

“Why not?” Eddie said with some bite.

“Because…because she…”

“I’m a big boy, Richie. I can handle it.”

“She doesn’t care,” Richie spat. “Ben said so, and so did my mom.”

Eddie studied Richie’s face intensely, and Richie took it in, hoping that Eddie would believe him and listen, that Richie could protect him from this.

“I’m still calling,” Eddie said.

“You can’t, Eds,” Richie said.

Eddie moved around Richie to the phone. “You can’t tell me what to do. You don’t get to do that anymore.”

Richie nodded and moved away, taking a seat on their bed with his back to the wall, as he watched Eddie dial the phone.

“Hi, ma.”

…

“It’s Eddie, mom.”

…

“What do you mean?”

…

“N-neither.”

…

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

…

“Mom, please talk to me.”

…

“Mom.”

…

Eddie looked at the phone and then slowly placed it back on the receiver. He stared at the wall, no emotion on his face.

Richie stood up. “Eds?”

Eddie stormed toward the door. “I’m going out.”

He slammed the door behind him, and Richie was left alone in their apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the shit show. We're really in it now, aren't we?
> 
> Uhh... Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG TW for reference to attempted suicide in this chapter towards the end, and also to drug overdose.

_I put a bullet where I should have put a helmet_

_And I crashed my car cause I want to get carried away._

_That's why I'm standing on the overpass screaming at myself_

_Hey, I wanna get better_.

"I Wanna Get Better" - Bleachers

* * *

Richie was freaking out to say the least. Eddie had stormed out after a shitty phone call home and didn’t trust Richie to be his comfort because Richie had been hiding from him for weeks. Richie felt like garbage, wishing to everything he could take it all back and just talk to Eddie like Ben had said, but it was too late for that. He had to deal with the hand he was dealt.

A smaller more rational part of him was trying to say that Eddie was hiding too, that Eddie also had secrets, but the part that was screaming was the part of Richie telling him he was worthless and didn’t deserve Eddie. That was the part that always won. That was the part that Richie could never silence.

After pacing the apartment for about ten minutes, Richie decided he couldn’t work through this alone and picked up the phone.

His finger hovered over the buttons for a minute weighing the possibilities of who would be the best to talk to right now. Eddie. Eddie was the only person who always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better. Move past that, Richie thought. Who else?

Bev was the next. But no, that wouldn’t work. Richie called her when he needed someone to whip him into shape and Richie didn’t need to learn a lesson right now, he needed someone to listen and lie and tell him everything was going to be okay. Bev was great, but not for that. And unfortunately, that ruled out Stan too.

Ben? No, Ben would try to give logic and advise which was all well and good when Richie need to know what to do next. He already knew. Talk to Eddie when he came home. He didn’t need advice, he needed Eddie.

Bill was a no, too. As great of a friend as he was, he could never comfort Richie the way he needed, at least not by himself.

That left Mike. Richie dialed the number and waited. Mike answered almost immediately.

“Hello?”

“Mike?” Richie said. “Mikey, I need to talk, and I didn’t know who else to call cause Eddie ran out mad as all shit and I don’t know what to do besides wait here and I’m freaking out. I’m so worried about him, Mike, and I don’t know what to do.” Richie took a breath, not realizing he hadn’t been breathing before.

“Slow down, Richie,” Mike said. “What’s wrong? Why is Eddie mad?”

“I fucked up,” Richie said. “I fucked up big time. I called my parents without telling Eddie and then he called his mom and it didn’t go well. Now he’s pissed and I know it might be because of his mom but I also think it’s my fault too for going behind his back.”

“That sounds, uh,” Mike said. “I think I’m still confused, but what do you need from me?”

“I need you to work with me,” Richie said, still hardly breathing. “I need you to talk to me.”

“Okay,” Mike said. “Okay, listen, Rich. First, sit down.”

Richie fumbled for a chair and sat, just like Mike instructed.

“Then we’re going to do those breathing exercises you used to do with Eddie when he was still having breathing problems. Okay?”

“Okay, okay, okay, but you have to lead.”

Mike led him through a few rounds of breathing exercises and Richie could feel his heart slowing down.

“You good?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” Richie said still scared as hell but calmer now. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” Mike said. “Now, listen. I think you know this already but I’m going to tell you what I think of all this. It sounds like you and Eddie are going through some shit, and if you were lying to him, then that’s on you and you need to apologize. But I also think it sounds like Eddie isn’t in a good place either and that’s also weighing on him. Whatever it is, though, I’m sure you guys will work it out. You’ve been together this long, haven’t you?”

“It has been a long time, hasn’t it?” Richie said fondly thinking on his years with Eddie. They had been together since they were thirteen, save for those two weeks when they were fifteen and Richie messed up really bad. He didn’t like to think about it, but he forced himself to not forget it so he would always do everything he could for Eddie. He wasn’t going to mess up again. Although, he just did, didn’t he?

“Five years, right?” Mike said.

“Oh, shit,” Richie said chuckling softly. “I think I forgot our anniversary.”

“Heh, maybe that’s why he’s mad.”

“Nah, he’d let me know if that was why. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Mike sighed. “I think you guys’ll be okay. You just have to talk.”

“Yeah,” Richie said. “That’s what Ben said too.”

“Great minds think alike.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mikey.”

“You’re just jealous I’m smarter than you.”

“Let’s fucking go then. Public school versus homeschool. I’ll kick your ass in any trivia contest.”

“You fucking wish,” Mike said and Richie could practically hear him smiling. “You are good, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Richie lied. “I’m good now.” The truth was that he wasn’t good, he was just not panicking anymore. He was still scared shitless, and would not be able to rest until Eddie got back, but at least he wasn’t hyperventilating.

“Good,” Mike said. “Look, Rich, it’s late and I have to go.”

“I get it,” Richie said. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Get some rest, Richie,” Mike said.

“Alright, Mom,” Richie said. “Bye, Mikey. Hope I see you soon.”

“You too, Trashmouth,” Mike said with a click on the other end.

Richie put the phone back and settled in for however long he would have to wait for Eddie to come back. Turns out, it would be three hours, fourteen minutes, and thirty seconds exactly by Richie’s watch. Of course, he had to keep track.

Eddie came stumbling in close to two in the morning clutching a brown paper bag close to his chest that Richie could only assume was alcohol in some form. Without saying anything, Richie tried to take the bag from Eddie to see exactly how drunk he was.

“Fuck off, Richie,” Eddie said turning away and taking a swig from whatever was in the bag.

“I just want to know how much you’ve had,” Richie said patiently.

“None of your fucking business,” Eddie said slamming the bag on the table before running to the bathroom. Richie could hear the sounds of Eddie vomiting through their thin walls. He took the opportunity to identify the contents of the bag. Half of a bottle of vodka remained. Eddie was very drunk.

Richie went to the bathroom to check on Eddie who was laying on his back on the floor next to the toilet. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was ragged. The freckles on his face and dark purple bags under his eyes stood out drastically against his pale white skin. If Richie didn’t know any better, he would have thought Eddie was dying. Maybe he was. Maybe that was another secret he was keeping.

Richie sat on the floor next to Eddie keeping a close eye on his shallow breathing, wishing Eddie still had an inhaler, that maybe it would have helped.

“Where’d you get the booze?” Richie asked.

“Gino,” Eddie said. “Gets me whatever I want.”

“How do you feel?”

“How do I look?”

“Like fucking trash.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly. “It’s kind of hard to breathe right now.” Eddie took a long, shaky breath, like he had been forgetting to breath before. “I wonder if that’s…” He trailed off.

“What?” Richie said. “Your asthma?”

“No,” Eddie said. “Never mind.”

Richie let it go. Eddie probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning anyway, but he decided not to push anything. Eddie was on the floor trying to gain his bearings enough to get up and the last thing he needed was for Richie to bombard him with questions.

They sat like that for a few minutes. Eddie focusing on breathing, and Richie watching Eddie, making sure that he was still okay, until Eddie spoke up.

“Do you ever wish you were dead sometimes?” Eddie asked. “Like the world would be better off without you?”

“Yes,” Richie said without thinking.

Eddie apparently didn’t hear because he kept talking. “I thought that for a second and then realized that it’s my mom that the world would be better without.” He took a deep breath. “I wish that fucking good-for-nothing, low life cunt would just fucking die.” And then Eddie started crying.

All Richie could do was watch. After everything, all Richie could do for his boyfriend was sit there and watch him cry over his mother. He tried to move, he really did, but there was something inside of him holding him down and keeping him planted on the ground. Richie was powerless.

Eddie sat up quickly and almost fell over. This time Richie moved and caught him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Richie said helping him up.

Richie moved Eddie to bed, laying him down on his side in case he threw up again, and taking his shoes off before tucking him in. Somewhere along the way, a pill bottle fell out of Eddie’s pocket and Richie made a note to pick it up later.

Laying in bed, Eddie looked so little and delicate, but Richie had to remind himself that Eddie was far from delicate. Eddie was the bravest person he knew, and he had been putting up with so much shit lately, it was a miracle that Eddie hadn’t ended up dead in a ditch that night. The moonlight streaked in lighting up Eddie’s soft face and Richie was reminded of how much he loved Eddie, how much he truly cared about Eddie’s safety and happiness. He wanted to make Sonia Kaspbrak pay for what she did to him. He wanted to make himself pay too. But that would have to wait. For now, Eddie was asleep, sleeping away the pain and the alcohol. Richie stroked Eddie’s hair and lightly kissed his temple before going to pick up what Eddie dropped on the way to bed.

_“Hello? Sonia Kaspbrak speaking.”_

_“Hi, Ma.”_

_“Who is this?”_

_“It’s Eddie, Mom.”_

_“Oh, right. Well, what do you need?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Well, I assume you’re either dying or need money. Which is it?”_

_“N-neither.”_

_“Then what is it? I’m very busy.”_

_“I just wanted to talk to you.”_

_“I’m busy, Eddie. I have to let you go.”_

_“Mom, please talk to me.”_

_“I’m busy. Goodbye.”_

_“Mom.”_

_“Goodbye.”_

Eddie woke up with a migraine and a stomach ache.

He could barely open his eyes. The sunlight poured in and hit Eddie’s face so perfectly that it must have been God’s wrath, he thought as he pulled his pillow over his head, but it did nothing. Maybe he ought to get up and face the pain of the day that he created for himself.

Eddie hated drinking because he always got the worst hangovers out of everyone he knew, and this time was no different. He knew last night that he would regret it in the morning, especially when adding the pills to the mix, but he felt like shit and needed something to make him forget. To forget Richie and to forget his mom. But it only made things worse, and by the time he realized that, half the bottle was gone, so he thought, fuck it, let’s keep going.

The worst part was he remembered everything. He had a knack for that. Where everyone else would black out and forget the escapades of their drunken nights, Eddie remembered everything, especially the embarrassing stuff, and last night was really fucking embarrassing. Eddie was not looking forward to talking to Richie.

He decided it was time to stop wallowing and get up, maybe take a shower, eat some breakfast, have a pill or two or three. He opened his eyes to find a Gatorade, his pill bottle, and a note next to his head. He took the note, squinting to read so as not to exacerbate his already throbbing head.

“Eds, I called you into work so don’t worry about that. We’ll talk when I get home. Richie”.

Fuck. Eddie really didn’t want to talk to Richie, but he supposed it was a long time coming. He took the Gatorade and chugged half of it before using it to take two pills. Immediately he wished he didn’t. The pills were what got him here in the first place, but he couldn’t find the strength to make himself go without them.

It was hard to explain how he was feeling. Guilty was one because he knew he scared Richie and that was never anything he wanted to do. But he also felt betrayed by Richie who called his parents behind his back. It was strange to Eddie. He didn’t think he should be upset by that. Richie was allowed to do what he wanted even if that included calling the people that ran them out of Derry in the first place. Eddie guessed he was hurt because, as it turned out, Richie had been sitting on this for over a month, debating and deliberating what to do over it, and didn’t mention it to him once. Did Richie not trust Eddie anymore? Did he not love him? Why else would Richie not find strength in Eddie anymore? What else was he hiding?

Eddie slammed his head back into the pillow and debated whether or not it was worth the energy to get up and eat, but fell back asleep before he could come to a conclusion.

He was woken up by the sound of Richie coming home from work in the early evening, wondering how he could have slept away the entire day. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Richie said shedding his jacket. There was no emotion in his voice. Eddie braced himself.

“It’s fine,” Eddie said. “I slept all day anyway.”

He stood up out of bed, head still vaguely sore, but no longer throbbing. He was starving.

“How do you feel?” Richie said eyeing Eddie suspiciously.

“Fine,” Eddie said. “Peachy.”

Richie didn’t say anything and kept staring at Eddie. For some reason, that really pissed him off.

“You have something you want to say,” Eddie said. “So say it.”

“That was the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever done,” Richie said without missing a beat.

“Maybe,” Eddie said trying to keep his cool. “But I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Richie said. “Are you really sure that everything’s good now?”

Eddie knew what Richie was implying. Eddie was physically fine now, but he was still dealing with all kinds of shit in his head. Changes and drugs and his mom. Fuck that noise. He was fine. He could handle it.

“Yeah,” Eddie said brushing past Richie to the kitchen. He wasn’t about to sit there and pass out again because he was so hungry. He scrounged up some food and ate quickly, fully aware of Richie watching every move he made. He finally turned on Richie, who didn’t want to leave him alone. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop pretending everything’s okay when it’s not,” Richie said. There it was. Richie had to go and act so high and mighty, acting like he was the master of dealing with his problems when Eddie knew better than that. He knew Richie did too because the only thing Richie was the master of was shitty impressions and deflecting his problems onto other people.

“Why?” Eddie spat back. “It’s what you do.”

Richie looked incredulous. “I’m not the one with the drug problem.”

Eddie was taken aback. Richie knew. He must have found out recently, probably last night. There was no way Richie could have kept something like that from him for long. Eddie really hated him for using that argument. “Says the guy who smokes a pack a day.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Richie said. Bullshit.

“Really?” Eddie asked, desperate for whatever dumbass excuse Richie would come up with. “How?”

“It isn’t but you’re changing the subject,” Richie sputtered. Oh, so when Richie said let’s talk, he really meant let’s only talk about your problems because I’m right and you’re wrong. Of fucking course.

“What I do is my business,” Eddie said, practically yelling.

“Not when you’re drunk and high and I don’t know how to take care of you,” Richie said matching Eddie’s tone. He always brought up taking care of Eddie like it was his fucking job. His mom did that too and he was fucking sick of it.

“It’s not your fucking job to take care of me,” Eddie said.

“Who else is going to?” Richie said. Eddie was brought back to a time when he mouthed off to his mom and all she could do was explain how she took care of him and that she was his only family, so he ought to be grateful for her. He ran away from her. He did not run away to find someone just like her.

“I don’t need you,” Eddie said, “or anyone else to take care of me. What I do is my own business.” Eddie felt like he was half-true in that statement. He didn’t need his mom, or Richie, to take care of him, and he was allowed to do what he wanted, but to what extent would it be entirely his own business? Richie was his boyfriend after all, but Eddie was too mad to think about that.

“What if you overdose?” Richie said. Fuck, Eddie thought, he had a point. “And die? What the fuck then? Am I supposed to not be sad because it was none of my fucking business?”

Richie had a point. A really good one too. Eddie didn’t dare think about it and pulled a card from Richie’s book: he deflected. “You’re exaggerating.” But was he?

“No, I’m not!” Richie said. “I looked it up cause you scared the shit out of me last night, and Oxycontin and alcohol are super fucking fatal. You could have died last night and what would I have done? What you do affects me whether you like it or not.”

All logic was thrown out the window in Eddie’s head. The pills felt too good and Eddie had already taken two today, therefore needing a reason to defend his actions. It would all have to be Richie’s fault if he wanted to make himself feel better about this.

“You didn’t have to run away with me,” Eddie said. “It was your idea from the beginning and now you’re the one who’s stuck with it.”

“Because I never thought you’d say yes!” Richie said. Eddie felt a pang of guilt over that even though he knew he shouldn’t. Was it his fault Richie was feeling the way he did? Did Richie ever want to run away? Or did Eddie subconsciously force his hand? “It was a dream to make me feel better,” Richie continued. “I never thought we’d ever end up doing it, but you started freaking out and I had to get you out of Derry before it was too late.”

Eddie changed his mind. Richie was an adult capable of his own decisions and had to own up to his own mistakes. Richie was always trying to take care of Eddie, and he was so fucking tired. If Richie didn’t want to run away, then he should have said so. This was not Eddie's fault.

“You don’t need to take care of me!” Eddie yelled.

“Who else will?” Richie said.

“I can take care of myself,” Eddie said. “If you didn’t want to run away, you should have said so and stayed home with your parents, so you don’t have to call them behind my fucking back.” Maybe it was a low blow, but Eddie was done with Richie’s bullshit excuses.

“It’s not my fault my parents actually love me,” Richie said.

That shut Eddie up. He saw Richie’s immediate regret, knowing sometimes Richie’s anger and impulse got the better of him. Eddie thought what he said was a low blow, but he never thought Richie would say something so heartless, even on impulse. Eddie clenched his jaw, unable to speak, fighting back tears. Fuck Richie. Fuck his mom. Fuck everything.

“Fuck you,” Eddie said.

“Eddie, wait,” Richie said desperately. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie said moving for the door to be anywhere Richie wasn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Richie said. “I didn’t mean it. I was mad.” Richie grabbed Eddie’s arm. “Please.”

Eddie didn’t want to hear it, but something told him he needed to. That Richie had something really important to say and his lack of impulse control got the better of him because Eddie got mad first. Eddie tried to be mad at Richie, but he couldn’t. He was just so fucking tired and wanted to feel okay again. He would hear Richie out. He still loved him, after all. Maybe this time Richie would say something right.

Eddie turned back to Richie, conveying with his eyes that he had one chance, that if Richie said something stupid again, Eddie was gone. He decided to go first when he saw the fear in Richie’s eyes. This was an unrecognizable fear that even Pennywise couldn’t muster. Eddie knew that if he left, there was no telling what that would do to Richie. It would break him.

“Last night,” Eddie said pulling out a foggy memory, “you said sometimes you wished you were dead.” If they were going to have a serious conversation, everything had to be out on the table.

“I didn’t think you’d remember that,” Richie said, barely higher than a whisper.

“What did you mean?” Eddie said. “What was that all about?”

Richie sighed and went to sit down. Eddie followed.

“Sometimes I wish I was dead,” Richie said. “What else is there to say?”

“Richie.”

“Some days are better,” Richie said and bit his lip. “And most days are worse. Some days feel amazing and wonderful, especially when I’m with you, and most days feel like I’m just going through the motions. Cracking a joke and being annoying. It doesn’t feel right but that’s what people expect so that’s what I do.” He took a deep breath. “And some days feel like the end of the world even when the logical part of my brain says they’re not.”

Richie reached forward and took Eddie’s hands, then leaned forward placing his forehead on their clasped hands. “I’ve never told anyone this,” Richie said. He took another breath and sat back up. “When I was fourteen, I was feeling like trash. I don’t even remember why. Probably some asshole at school or something. I went home and got my dad’s gun out. It was loaded. I checked. I undid the safety, put the barrel to my head, and then put the safety back on. Too much of a coward like always.”

Eddie tried to process what he was just told. It sounded like Richie had depression and didn’t even know it. And Richie just told him about the time he tried to kill himself. And Eddie didn’t even know. He had been with Richie for five fucking years and he didn’t have a fucking clue what Richie was going through. Why didn’t he say anything?

But it made sense, why Richie tended to shoulder other people’s responsibilities and place himself to such a higher standard than everyone else. He didn’t have to take care of himself because he could justify that he was spending his time taking care of Eddie. It was never malicious or possessive. It was a defense mechanism. If he spent too much time thinking about himself, he would remember how hard things were, and would try to kill himself again. Maybe. Eddie was only speculating.

“I think,” Eddie said slowly, “it takes more courage to keep going.”

Richie let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I guess,” he said. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“It does if you keep thinking about it,” Eddie said. “Richie, I don’t…I don’t want to say anything out of place, but…I think you have depression.”

“That’s not –,” Richie started. “I’m not…like that.” He paused and looked deep into Eddie’s eyes, giving the impression that he was reading Eddie. “I think I am. That…Well, that’s just fucking what I needed today.” He looked at the ground and let go of Eddie’s hands, opting to rub them up and down his thighs.

Eddie studied Richie, noting the way he was taking in this information about himself, trying to figure out exactly how he was supposed to live with this new part of himself. Richie had accepted it. Eddie was pulling moves like Richie all day, maybe he could do that now, too. Maybe he could accept something about himself.

“Richie,” Eddie said. “I think I’m addicted to Oxycontin.”

Richie looked at him again, eyes shining.

“No,” Eddie said. “No, I know I am. Because I took two fucking pills the minute I woke up like they were fucking vitamins despite the fact that they nearly killed me last night.” Eddie took a breath and started wringing his hands. “After what I did to you, I took two again…and I’m so fucking sorry, Richie. I never meant to scare you.”

“Why did you start?” Richie asked.

“I…I…” Eddie tried to start. He honestly didn’t know. He remembered the pain in his body, especially in his arm. But he never should have hurt in the first place. He was in shape and there was nothing physically wrong with him. But everything hurt. “Everything hurt. I just wanted the pain to stop.”

“Everything…” Richie repeated. “Like your body? Or…?”

Oh. _Oh_. “My body,” Eddie said, “but I think…I think maybe it was…” Eddie bit back a sob. He was tired of crying too. “I miss my mom, Richie. She hates me and I miss her.” He felt tears escape his eyes. “How fucking pathetic is that?”

Richie took Eddie’s hands again and kissed them. “It’s not pathetic to miss your mom. I did too before…”

“How was your phone call?” Eddie asked changing the subject. “It sounded good from what I heard.”

Richie smiled softly. “It was,” he said. “They, um, they miss me and want to work things out. I think they’re done spouting bullshit about me being queer. They want me to come home when I can. I told them Christmas.”

“Good,” Eddie said trying to be happy for Richie. “That’s good.”

“They asked about you,” Richie said. “They wanted to know if you were okay, too.”

For some reason, that struck Eddie as odd. Why should Richie’s parents give a shit about Eddie? But Eddie remembered how long he had been friends with Richie. They had been friends since kindergarten, best friends. Who knew how many nights he slept over at Richie’s house or how many dinners he ate with Richie’s family? Of course, Richie’s parents would care about him, but it still seemed like something that wasn’t supposed to happen. Eddie grew up with a mom, so he didn’t need another set of parents looking out for him. Maybe he had just grown to not expect anything if he wasn’t giving them anything. That was what his mom taught him after all. She took care of him because he took care of her. That was how it worked. What had he ever given the Toziers that would give them reason to ask about Eddie’s well being? And especially after he ran away with their son in the middle of the night.

“Why?” Eddie asked.

“Because they care about you?” Richie said like it was obvious. “You’ve been my best friend since we were little, Eds. You’re, like, another son to them or whatever.”

Eddie couldn’t figure it out. He couldn’t figure out why someone would give a shit about him and not get anything in return.

Richie bit his lip. “I know you’re like, fucked up by your mom, but parents shouldn’t need a reason to care about their kids. Even when my parents were being shitty, I knew they still cared about me in their own weird shitty way. They didn’t want anything from me except to know I was safe, and your mom expects everything from you: company, family, perfection. You’re not perfect, Eddie, and your mom shouldn’t expect you to be. It’s her fault she’s alone, not yours. You’re allowed to let people care about you.”

Eddie ran his mind over every single time Richie came to him to talk and seek comfort. It was never anything big, not the stuff Richie should have been talking about now that Eddie knew, just little things like test stress or petty arguments with their friends, but Richie always sought comfort from Eddie. Eddie tried to remember how many times it happened the other way around. Not many.

He tried to think of why. Not once did he think it was because he didn’t think he deserved it. But maybe that was it. You get what you give. That was what he was taught.

You get what you give.

“So do you, Rich,” Eddie said. “You can’t preach something you don’t give yourself.”

Richie nodded. “You’re right.”

“And you can’t,” Eddie said. “You can’t keep treating me like I’m something delicate. I’m an adult that can take care of myself. I know you love me and want me to be okay, but how am I supposed to feel when you treat me like I don’t know any better?”

“I never thought,” Richie said. “I always wanted the best for you. I thought we were supposed to make sacrifices for the people we love.”

“Yeah, but – but that’s for ditching your T-bird for a hatchback or taking the 9 to 5 that you would rather not have to pay the bills, not sacrificing your happiness. Or for treating the person you love like a child.”

“I guess I never realized you felt that way,” Richie said.

“It reminds me of my mom sometimes,” Eddies said, finally catching a look of understanding in Richie’s eyes, “the way you feel like you need to protect me. We take care of each other, but…we’re not supposed to give up everything to do that.” It made sense when Eddie said it out loud. Why didn’t he realize it sooner? He was guilty of the same fucking thing.

“I’m sorry,” Richie said. “I think it was just easier to care about someone else rather than myself.”

Eddie nodded. “That sounds about right,” Eddie said talking about himself. “So, what now?” Eddie asked as though Richie would know any better than him. “I feel like we hit a wall.”

“We keep going,” Richie said with absolute certainty. “I can’t bare to lose you, Eds. And – and if we’re winding shit up to hit the fan again in another couple months, then we let that shit happen and figure it out from there. But I think…I think that we just moved past our first real piece of fuckery that real life has thrown at us.” He sighed. “I wanna get better, Eddie. I want us to get better and I want things to be better. But they won’t – they won’t if we don’t do it together.”

All Eddie could do was stare at Richie. With everything that happened over the last few months, Eddie had forgotten why he ran away in the first place. He loved Richie with everything he had and would do anything for him. He would get better for Richie. And it was amazing watching Richie be more serious than he had ever seen him. There was always at least one joke cracked during every serious thing they ever did: when they got together, their first “I love you”, and even deciding to run away. There was always something because it was better to be annoying than to be forgotten.

Eddie would never forget Richie. Eddie had so much love for him he could barely hold it in, and that was what scared him to the point of freaking out over being enough for him, over giving enough that he deserved what he got in return.

But Richie was being serious. He couldn’t lose Eddie, and Eddie knew he couldn’t lose Richie. If Richie wanted to get better, then so did Eddie.

“Richie,” Eddie said. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I love you, Eddie,” Richie said.

Eddie smiled. “I love you, too, Rich.” He made a split-second decision. “I love you more than anything. And – and – and I want – I want the world with you. I know we can’t right now…”

“Eds?”

“Shut up,” Eddie said. “For one second. I know we can’t right now, but I want to marry you, Richie. Like, right now. And we can’t, but we can pretend. We can get rings and say that we are even if legally we can’t and…and…marry me, Rich. Marry me.”

Eddie barely had time to gauge a reaction before Richie launched forward and kissed Eddie. It was a kiss that Eddie hadn’t felt in a long time. It made sense when Richie said it felt like he was just going through the motions because now he could place why every kiss felt wrong, and this one felt so perfectly right. Eddie wanted to hear Richie say yes, but he didn’t need to because he felt it with this kiss.

Richie pulled back, a tear falling down his cheek. Eddie wiped it away.

“That a yes, love?” Eddie said.

Richie nodded. “Yeah, baby,” he said. “Forever and ever, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! There's one more chapter and it's more of an epilogue/resolution chapter and ties up all the loose ends.
> 
> I want to really thank you guys for reading after this chapter. 
> 
> I'll admit that this was what I was dying to get to while writing all the other chapters since this is the big climax, but it was also super difficult to write. I mentioned at the end of chapter one that I wrote this fic as a sort of coping mechanism and I really meant it. I find a lot of myself in my interpretation of Richie and Eddie as characters, both of them containing a small part of me, which I think is part of the reason why I'm so drawn to them. I cried a lot while writing this chapter, so hearing y'all's comments and that you like the fic is really nice to hear.
> 
> Anyway, last chapter will go up tomorrow! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit we're almost done
> 
> I made a playlist for this fic if anyone cares: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6XycgK26xFQ4IxHRsFBhHw

_Don't you know I'm still standing after all this time?_

_I'm picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind._

"I'm Still Standing" - Elton John

* * *

It took Richie some time to get used to, but even after a month of wearing it, he still found himself fidgeting with the ring on his left hand. It was old and worn but his and Eddie’s matching one were ten bucks from the pawn shop down the street, and it fit perfectly, like it was meant to be his. That was something else Richie was still getting used to. Even though it wasn’t official, he and Eddie were married, all his, if only in their heads. He was still surprised that Eddie beat him to the proposal, too. That was something he had been planning since they were thirteen. That bastard.

But that was only one small thing in the series of changes in the past month or so. Eddie wanted to quit Oxycontin and Richie felt it was only right to try and quit smoking alongside him. And, fuck, every other thought in his head was how much he wanted a cigarette. But he usually combated that by comparing the fuzzy feeling in his mouth to Eddie waking up shaking uncontrollably and sweating profusely. If Eddie could do it, so could he. They also both agreed that cold turkey would be torture, so they kept each other’s vices for them. Eddie kept track of Richie’s smoking and Richie kept track of Eddie’s pills. It wasn’t perfect because Richie often realized he had already asked for a cigarette that day after he had asked again, pissing Eddie off. And it was horribly hard for Richie when Eddie was keeled over in pain saying he’d be fine, he didn’t need one, but Richie knew that one pill would make it easier.

These were things he had to get used to.

They also quit their jobs at the market. Not only did they no longer need the extra income with Eddie moving to full-time at the office, but Eddie made it very clear that if he was around Gino, he might slip and be swayed into getting back into his old routine, or worse. When they quit, Gino told Eddie that he lost his discount, that if he went back to get more pills, they’d be full price. Eddie bit his lip, and Richie grabbed his shoulder, pulling him out of the store, not daring to look back.

They wanted to get better, and they were all each other had in that place. Richie vowed to talk to Eddie about everything he was feeling, and he hoped Eddie did the same, although sometimes it was easier to keep some problems to himself. But he was getting better. It was still hard to tell Eddie things sometimes, but after confessing the deepest secret he had, he had to admit it got easier every time.

He helped Eddie work through his shit too. And it turned out, Eddie had a lot of shit to go through, most of it being residual trauma and guilt from having Sonia Kaspbrak for a mother.

Richie’s parents tried to make it out for Thanksgiving, but something came up with his grandfather and his health and Thanksgiving was cancelled. Richie tried not to be too upset as he and Eddie were invited to Rhonda and Bobby’s for a Thanksgiving feast with their friends. He knew he would see them in a month for Christmas (which reminded him he needed to get saving for train tickets), but it was still shitty to sit and think about how excited he was to see them. He missed them a lot, and he wanted to make up with them in person, but that would have to wait.

Despite all the bullshit, Richie decided to start working on a comedic routine. Something to get his creative juices flowing and to express himself in a more productive way. Something to get his mind off the mind-numbing, repetitive nature of waiting tables. Although, that did give him plenty of material.

He was working on a joke when he should have been working when Eddie strolled into the diner after work, still dressed in his business clothes. Richie absolutely loved Eddie in a tie, and not just because he could grab it and pull him in for a kiss. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about Eddie looking grown up made him lust after his boyf –  _ husband –  _ every fucking day.

Eddie took his usual seat at the end of the counter and Richie brought him a cup of coffee.

“How was work?” Richie said reaching out to play with Eddie’s tie.

Eddie sipped his coffee. “Nothing like being the office slave.”

“Not much different than here then,” Richie said, and as if on cue, an elderly man in one of the booths snapped his fingers at Richie, presumably calling him over.

Richie sighed and rolled his eyes before adopting a pleasant smile to greet his guest. He returned to put the man’s order on the queue in front of the line cook, and then went back to Eddie, leaning on the counter and fidgeting with his ring.

“You always play with your ring,” Eddie said taking Richie’s hands.

“Just reminding myself it still exists,” Richie said as a half-truth. It was true that sometimes he still couldn’t believe Eddie was all his, but the other half was that he still worried about people asking, that he’d have to say he wasn’t really married and worry whether or not people would think it’s cute or fucking weird. “Hey, listen to this,” Richie said changing the topic.

He pulled out a small notepad he kept in his apron where he kept his jokes and routine ideas.

“Another bit?” Eddie said. “Is it good this time?”

“Fuck you,” Richie said. “Of course, it isn’t.”

Eddie smiled and Richie melted. He pulled himself together for the joke.

“So, I work at a diner,” Richie started, “and it’s a thankless job. Out of maybe a hundred customers, only two ever bother to learn my name and one of them’s my boyfriend.”

Eddie let out a soft laugh.

“But at least I get good tips. Fifty or so give me 15 to 20 percent, forty-nine give me, like, a dollar, and one stiffs me. Also, my boyfriend.”

Eddie laughed. “You’re slandering me!”

“It’s not slander if it’s true, asshole,” Richie said.

“Fine,” Eddie said pulling out his wallet. He took out a twenty and slammed it on the counter. “Here. For being nice and attentive…and hot as fuck.”

Richie grabbed before Eddie could take it back, not sure of his game.

“Oh,” Eddie said. “I almost forgot to get groceries today. I’ll pick them up, but I think I need some money. Twenty bucks?”

Richie slid the twenty back across the counter. “You suck.”

Eddie licked his lips. “Yeah, I do.”

Richie tried not to think about the implications of Eddie mercilessly teasing him during his shift. He tried not to think about Eddie’s lips and his tongue all over his body, up and down, giving him exactly what he wanted.

“That a promise?” Richie said leaning close to Eddie.

Eddie leaned in for a quick kiss. “You’ll find out later.”

Just as Richie was about to quip something about how Eddie was a flirt and maybe even write it down for his routine, Rhonda came out from the back.

“No PDA in my restaurant,” she said bounding up next to Richie.

“Sorry, Rhonda,” Eddie said not sounding sorry in the least.

“Apology accepted, sweetheart,” she said warmly, then turned to Richie. “Get back to work. I don’t pay you to stand around all day.”

“You don’t?” Richie said. “I thought my job description was ‘eye candy’.”

Eddie laughed. “You wish.”

“What he said,” Rhonda said. She turned back to Eddie. “You want a burger, hon? I’ll whip one up for you.”

“I’m beginning to think,” Richie said looking for something to do during the lull in customers, “that Eddie is your favorite.”

“Of course,” Rhonda said throwing a burger on the grill. “He doesn’t work for me so I have absolutely no expectations for him.”

“That’s some bull,” Richie said.

“You’re damn right,” Rhonda agreed. “Why don’t you sweep up around table four? There was a toddler in here about an hour ago and I swear she was chucking fries on the floor like it was her job.”

Richie did as Rhonda asked, grumbling the entire time, loud enough for her to hear. He could see the smile on her face as he did so, a smile that almost never left her face, a smile that reminded him that she was only teasing and did care about him just as much as Eddie.

He returned to the counter a minute later as Rhonda placed the burger plate in front of Eddie. Richie quickly snatched a few fries from it and Rhonda turned ever faster and smacked his side.

“You already ate,” Rhonda said.

“I’m bigger than he is,” Richie said shoving the fries in his mouth.

“Not in every way,” Eddie chimed in throwing a wink at Richie.

“My, my, Edward,” Richie said feigning the voice of a southern belle. “Wherever did you learn to speak as such?”

“Only from the best.”

Rhonda huffed. “I changed my mind,” she said. “Rich, you’re my new favorite.”

Richie silently pumped his fist in the air.

“While you boys are here,” Rhonda said. “You ever figure out Christmas plans? What days do I need to take you off?”

“We’re leaving the 23 rd ,” Eddie said. “And coming back the 27 th .”

“Longer than we wanted,” Richie said. “But the train’s gonna take all day.” He thought of the truck he sold, how many months ago? It was six months now. It felt like a lifetime.

“You ain’t been home since, have you?” Rhonda asked.

“Nope,” Richie said. “Not once.”

Eddie stared at his burger and played with the fries. Richie could practically read his mind. Eddie had been playing with the idea of seeing his mom and giving her one more chance to make things up, but Richie knew that was a lost cause. He tried to convince Eddie that it would only hurt him more, that they shouldn’t even bother, but he was trying to be better. He had to let Eddie make this decision and be there to pick him up when it failed.  _ If _ it failed, he corrected.

“I’ll miss you boys over the holidays,” Rhonda said. “Was gonna invite you to the girls’ Christmas party.” Rhonda sighed. “But I’m glad you’re going home. Make amends while you can.”

Richie knew that Rhonda spoke from a place of wisdom. She ran away from home just like they did, and she confessed recently that her parents died a few years after that, and Rhonda never got a chance to speak with them before they did. Whether or not things could be better, Richie wanted the closure. He  _ needed  _ it. He almost had it, too. He spoke with his parents at least once a week, but things wouldn’t be good until he saw them again. Maybe Eddie  _ should _ go see his mom.

“Thanks, Rhonda,” Richie said. “Don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“Probably died in the streets,” Rhonda said with a cocky grin. “Now get back to work.”

The train station was very empty. Richie checked his watch. 11:24 p.m. A little early, but knowing his dad, he would have gotten her at least twenty minutes ago. And there they were outside the station, waiting by the car.

His mom noticed him first, hit his dad’s arm, and then started walking to meet Richie halfway. His mom pulled him into the tightest hug he’d ever gotten.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” she said holding him. She pulled away and then smacked him upside the head. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she said tears in her eyes.

“I won’t, Mom,” Richie said. “God, of course, I won’t.”

His mom looked past him to where Eddie was following at a distance, not wanting to intrude. Richie’s mom brushed past him and hugged Eddie with the same ferocity as she hugged Richie. He felt his dad’s hand on his shoulder, and was turned back around into his dad’s arms.

Strength and warmth. His dad clapped his back and then pulled back to look Richie in the eyes, keeping a tight grip on Richie’s shoulders.

Richie had never seen his dad cry before, not even when his grandmother died. But now? Richie might have to amend that statement.

“You’re okay,” his dad said.

“Yeah, Dad,” Richie said. “I’m fine.”

“No,” his dad said softly. “No, I mean. It’s okay. You can be…this. You can be gay. It’s okay, Richie.”

Richie swallowed his sobs. He was having a man-to-man with his dad like he never had before. He was not about to start crying now. He nodded as his dad pulled him into another hug.

The car ride home consisted of Richie wanting to pass out but also trying to listen to his mother drone on and on about the things that happened since he was gone. How Georgia Merchant got a hideous new haircut and how Tom Jansen redid the tire shop and even the time that his dad’s work friend Jim Veres called Richie a faggot to his dad’s face and his dad punched him right there. His dad laughed that one off, saying that was an overexaggerated rumor that was flying around town, but not to look too closely at Jim’s crooked nose.

Eddie fell asleep on Richie’s shoulder halfway home, their fingers laced together. On Richie’s other hand, the free hand, his ring glinted with every streetlight they passed, and he wondered how long it would take his parents to notice it.

Eddie stood in front of the door, staring it down as if that would make the pit in his stomach disappear. His childhood home was virtually unchanged, as if he had never left. The walkway up to the door had been freshly shoveled, and Eddie vaguely wondered if his mom actually got off her ass to do it herself or paid one of the neighborhood boys to do it. He couldn’t decide if her laziness or cheapness would have won out.

He raised one hand in a closed fist, hovering for only a second before knocking. He took one last look back at Richie who was waiting down the walk by the road giving Eddie both the proximity and space he asked for. The door opened.

Sonia Kaspbrak stood there in the doorway, her hair in curlers and in that ugly robe with the snowmen on it. She looked Eddie up and down, then made like she was going to close the door, only to change her mind. She sighed.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Eddie said carefully.

“Happy?” she said. “Happy to see you? And why should I be?”

“Because I’m your son,” Eddie said almost whining. He took a deep breath knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere if he started losing his temper. “I don’t want to fight.”

“No?” his mother said raising her eyebrows. “Is that right? Then why did you leave me here all alone?” She put a lot of emphasis on ‘all alone’.

“I didn’t…” Eddie tried to say. “I was scared. I wasn’t happy here.”

His mother huffed. “Well, that really makes me feel better about myself.”

“That’s not fair,” Eddie said. “You made me feel like being gay was disgusting and I couldn’t take it anymore. What else was I supposed to do?” Eddie’s anger was rising. He took a deep breath again to calm down. He meant it when he said he didn’t want to fight. He was tired of fighting.

“Be a better son,” his mother said, and it felt like a slap in the face. “Now, it’s none of my business if you want to break your mother’s heart and be a homosexual vagrant running wild all over New York catching AIDS from the subway, but you don’t need to come here and break my heart all over again, flaunting it in front of me, and bring  _ him _ to my home.” She looked past Eddie, making a disgusted face at Richie. Eddie didn’t dare turn around.

Eddie didn’t want to fight, he really didn’t, but he was so fucking tired of his mother’s manipulation and scare tactics. After living in New York for six months, knowing full well it wasn’t the big, scary, disease-ridden cesspool his mother had him believe it was, he was ready to defend it, and especially ready to defend the people he met and loved. And he loved them more than he ever loved his mother.

“Don’t,” Eddie said. “Don’t ever talk about AIDS like you know a thing about it. Don’t talk about New York and the people there like you know about them. And don’t you fucking dare talk about my husband like that ever again.”

His mother opened and closed her mouth like a fish, and if Eddie wasn’t so pissed off, he would have thought it was kind of funny how tripped up she was. “Y-your…?”

“If you don’t want me here,” Eddie said, “then get used to me being gone. I don’t want to fight. I came here to give you one last chance and you blew it.”

“Oh, Eddie-bear,” his mother said pulling out the sweetest voice she could muster. “You can’t break your mother’s heart again. Stay for dinner, please.”

It was hard. It was hard because he wanted to stay so bad, to feel his mother’s arms around him, and to hear her tell him how good of a son he was. But he wasn’t a child anymore, and she made him feel lower than dirt, and he had to keep reminding himself of that.

“No,” Eddie said calmly. “I’m leaving.” He started backward down the walk.

“Don’t you dare run again, Edward,” his mom called. “You’ll regret it. You need me.”

“I never needed you and you can’t stop me,” he said finally turning around and walking up to Richie. “Let’s go home.”

Richie threw his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and Eddie slid his around Richie’s waist as he was pulled down the sidewalk. Richie waited until they a couple houses down the road before speaking.

“Did you get what you came for?” he asked.

Eddie tried to think about what he even wanted from his mother. Did he really want to go back to her? Did he really think she had changed? Richie’s parents had, so why couldn’t she? But he supposed he had accepted a long time ago that his mother never loved him, only the idea of him. If she really loved him, she would have changed. She would have realized what she did wrong and apologized and welcomed Eddie with open arms. But she didn’t. She insulted him and everything he ever loved, just like he expected her to.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Now I know who loves me and who doesn’t.”

That night, all seven Losers found themselves in Mike’s barn in the old makeshift lounge they made what seemed like ages ago. Richie and Eddie shared the armchair with Eddie tucked in the side, legs thrown over Richie’s, practically sitting on top of him. The long couch was taken by Ben and Bev who sat on the end closest to the chair, and Stan sitting opposite. And Mike and Bill took the loveseat, Eddie noting their shoulders pressed together and knees occasionally bumping every now and then.

Halfway through the night, Ben whispered something in Bev’s ear, which prompted her to lean forward towards Eddie and Richie.

“Okay, spill,” she said.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie said.

“The rings?” Bev said.

“Oh yeah,” Richie said dreamily. “Tell them, baby.” He threw his hand down on Eddie’s thigh.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “We’re kind of married now.”

Stan who had only been half paying attention turned to them. “Kind of?”

Richie patted his chest twice like a heartbeat. “In our hearts.”

“Can’t get married for real,” Eddie explained. “So, we bought some pawn shop rings and call each other husband.”

Everyone was smiling at them and Eddie was getting embarrassed. He could feel his face growing redder and redder as he threw his hands up to cover it. Richie pushed one aside and pinched Eddie’s cheek.

“And I have the cutest wittle husband in the world,” Richie said in a baby voice.

Bev made a fake gagging sound before laughing along with everyone else.

“I think it’s sweet,” Ben said.

“Of course, you would, Haystack,” Richie said.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Trashmouth?” Ben said.

“That you’re a hopeless romantic and it’s gross.”

“Says the guy who’s married at the ripe old age of eighteen.”

“Girls, please,” Bev said holding her arms out between them. “You’re both pretty.” She leaned back into the couch as Ben put his arm around her. Eddie could hear her whisper to Ben, “But you’re the prettiest.”

Eddie reached out and kicked her leg. She swatted at him.

“Brat,” she said smiling.

Mike sighed as stood up. “As cute as all this fighting is, I think we’re out of beer.”

“That’s because Stan’s a fucking alcoholic,” Richie said.

“I’ve had three drinks, asshole,” Stan said shooting a glare at Richie.

“Quit hiding behind your lies,” Richie said.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll go grab some from the house.” He started walking, then tried slyly to look behind him.

Bill jumped up. “I’ll help you,” he said following Mike out.

Strange, Eddie thought. Just as he was about to say something to Richie, he said something first.

“What’s that all about?” Richie asked.

“You don’t know?” Bev said.

“Those two got together a few months ago,” Ben said like it was obvious.

Maybe it was kind of obvious they had a thing going. Eddie had noticed how close they sat and the whispers they shared and whatever the fuck just happened a second ago. No, not ‘whatever the fuck’ because Eddie was pretty sure that was a thinly veiled excuse to make out in private for a few minutes. That part was obvious.

“What?” Richie said. “You’re fucking with me.”

“I don’t think so,” Eddie chimed in.

“Listen to your husband, dumbass,” Stan said finishing the beer he was holding.

“What do you know?” Richie said sounding surprised.

“I don’t know anything,” Eddie admitted. “But they’ve been super touchy all night. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

“And you weren’t going to point it out?”

“I was literally about to say something to you.”

“Betrayed doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel,” Richie said putting the back of his hand to his forehead in a fake fainting motion.

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie said pinching Richie’s side.

Richie turned back to the others. “No, but seriously, tell me more.”

“I think it was the day after I left,” Stan said scratching his head trying to remember. “Bill called me that evening and told me he kissed Mike earlier. They were going on a date that night. He could barely get it out he was stuttering so bad.”

“Wait,” Eddie said doing some quick math. “That’s like four fucking months.”

“And no one told us?” Richie said.

Eddie had to admit he felt a little hurt that two of his best friends started dating without telling him. Ben and Bev told them the next day when they finally got together. And it wasn’t like they were thirteen years old and scared as shit of what their friends would think of them being two boys. Eddie and Richie already dealt with that, and even they only waited a few weeks. And everyone else knew about Mike and Bill, too.

“You guys were going through some shit,” Ben said and the other two nodded. “No one wanted to mess with that.”

Sure, Eddie thought, whatever. He guessed that was good enough. He also had to admit that the two of them, even Richie, had stopped calling as often as they used to after a while. Eddie put it away. It wasn’t that big of a deal, he decided.

“God,” Richie threw his head back. “This is…a lot. I think I need a smoke.”

“Yeah?” Eddie said knowing he shouldn’t. “I thought you were going for your record.”

“Shut up,” Richie said. “I’m trying, okay?”

“You’re quitting?” Bev asked.

“Emphasis on trying,” Richie said.

“His record is five days,” Eddie said. “And he’s at three right now.”

“Keep it up, Rich,” Bev said patting his shoulder. “You’ll feel better when you get there.”

“It’s just been a long day,” Richie said. He turned back to Eddie. “Please, baby. I’ll brush my teeth real good tonight.”

Eddie brushed a hair from Richie’s forehead. It was always so hard because Richie was so cute, and it was so easy to say yes, even though Eddie had started getting used to kissing Richie’s newly clean mouth. The first time he noticed it, he said something, and that got Richie his five-day record of not smoking. Richie pouted.

Eddie leaned in Richie’s ear. “Fine,” he said quietly. “For two reasons. One: I’m, like, 99 percent sure Bill and Mike are outside the barn right now making out and I want you to scare them.”

Richie nodded. “I can do that.”

“And two…” Eddie held his hand up that he had been keeping down all night, trying not to move his arms around too much, to show Richie how much it was shaking. He was so close, he could feel it, to being independent from the drugs, but every once in a while, the pain would come back, or he would get bad arm tremors when he had a stressful day. Richie held onto the pills he had left, just like he held on to Richie’s cigarettes. One for one. It was only fair.

Richie reached into his pocket, pulled out the bottle, and handed one to Eddie before getting up unceremoniously, effectively dropping Eddie onto the ground.

“You make it really hard to love you sometimes,” Eddie said pulling cigarette out for Richie, who snatched it and went outside.

Eddie sat up and looked at his friends who had all gone silent, waiting for the same thing Eddie was waiting for. Barely a second after Richie walked outside, Bill and Mike came back in, Mike smiling to himself and Bill completely red. 

Bill returned to his place on the loveseat and Mike joined him. Bill kept his mouth tightly shut as Mike put an arm around him.

“Where’s the beer?” Stan asked sarcastically.

Bill opened his mouth, obviously attempting to speak, before deciding not to, and instead choosing to glare at Eddie as if this was his fault.

“He needed a smoke,” Eddie said. “Not my fault you guys were dry humping outside and he caught you in the act.”

Ben laughed. “I think you’re spending too much time with Richie.”

Eddie only shrugged.

“Bill’s a little embarrassed,” Mike said.

“Sh-sh-sh,” Bill could barely say. “Sh-sh-sh…” He took a deep breath. “Sh-shut up.”

“Yeah,” Stan said. “That’s what the phone call sounded like.”

Bill flipped him off. That he didn’t stutter over.

Mike pulled him in and kissed his temple. A smile played at Bill’s lips.

Eddie was happy for his friends, but knowing first-hand the horrors that Derry had, he was also downright terrified for them. He wanted to be optimistic, that things would change like Richie’s parents had, but Derry was cursed, and Bill and Mike were stuck here. The people here may have run Eddie and Richie out, but Eddie didn’t want to think of what they would do his friends. He didn’t dare think of how the town would paint Bill as the victim and Mike as a criminal. He didn’t dare think of the smear campaign and the likely terror they would put on his friend. Instead, he thought of how happy they seemed, and how he hoped they could go somewhere else soon. Maybe Florida like Mike always dreamed.

Eventually, Richie came back, and Eddie was still sitting on the floor holding the pill in his hand. He didn’t want it anymore, he decided.

Richie lightly kicked him. “Comfy?”

“Waiting for my cushion to get back,” Eddie said getting up and reclaiming his seat with Richie.

“I’ll add that to my job description,” he said pulling Eddie close to him. “Richie Tozier, comedian, husband, cushion. Has a nice ring to it.”

“I’ll sue you if you put that in your routine,” Eddie said. “That’s my bit.”

“What if I credit you?” Richie said. “And credit for this joke goes to my pain-in-the-ass – I mean, husband.” 

“I thought you were _ my _ pain-in-the-ass,” Eddie said. “Not the other way around.”

“No way, baby,” Richie said. “I’m  _ everyone’s  _ pain-in-the-ass. But you’re all mine.”

“I belong to no man, Tozier,” Eddie said. “I want that on the record.”

“Aw,” Richie said pouting. “I thought the rule was finder’s keepers.”

“That’s my rule.”

“Finder’s keepers. You’re all mine.” Richie held Eddie tight and quickly kissed him.

There was something…different. “You didn’t smoke,” Eddie said.

“Yeah,” Richie said. “Stood outside for a minute but decided I didn’t really want it.”

Eddie showed Richie the pill that was still in his hand, before sliding it in his front flannel pocket. “Me too.”

Richie pulled Eddie in for a longer kiss and only stopped when Stan yelled “Get a room.”

Eddie decided they would make good use of theirs later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! Big thanks to everyone who has been reading along the way and to everyone who left comments every time I posted a chapter. Y'all are what got me super excited to post the next one every single time.
> 
> If anyone is interested, I have a lot of one-shot fics posted to my account, and I also have tumblr if you want to hit me up @the-u-s-s-enterprise (it's my main blog so it's not really It related but I swear I post cool stuff)
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
